The Aphorist

We're all mowing esoteric patterns in the grass A fast and fading echo of ancient Nazca Man Who carved his lines upon the desert floor In hopes to catch the eye of some forgotten god To delight a passing thunderbird Or win patronage of a sky-jaguar knit of stars Shouted slogans of leapers give me megrims Why didn't I smash the copier when I was through? Self-doubt is a stalking fiend Narcissism is a killer That and no healthcare Dumb aphorist embrace obscurants And write in ogham for your final lines There's the failed lawyer haunting teen-punk shows He'll explain his top 5 for 09 and what to eat But, if you ever saw his bald-skull head You'd be certain he'd been dead for weeks And that's the story of the happy thief who provided content To that ceaseless chill-out stream His body will be found soaked in luminol aftershave Room of knives, Lebanon, Flying J I didn't know him very well But I think of him whenever my mind drifts