i have a fondness
for philosophy
but a general disdain
for philosophers
the ideals
no matter how batshit insane
appeal to the need
for structure in my mind

but
come around
spouting the words
of a dead
coke addled
mother obsessed
trying too hard
austrian?

batten down the hatches
as the pretentious pilot
begins
to build speed
over the warm waters
of my disinterest
compounded by cold unlogic
a perfect storm ensues

poets and philosophers
are oil and water
neither knows
their ass from a hole
in the ground
but both seek to be seen
as something more
profound

liars and fools
with too much time
too much confidence
not enough sense
to realize
nothing they
will ever say
has not been said before