Dr Philosopher's Lost Luster
Remember Doctor Foster in Gloucester?
Then, do sing along.
Dr. Philosopher was such a pompous-Sir, and he was such a bane he lived in a bubble and earned over double of what an average man did so gain
Dr. Philosopher was quite an arse-licker for him, there was loads to gain in schmoozing wherever, name-dropping forever right company he must retain
Dr. Philosopher was, in fact, an ethnographer, who believed in the First-world’s reign he thought others too tribal their knowledge not viable their sacred acts all profane
Dr. Philosopher said ‘truth’ he’d decipher, with objectivity, existence explain his perspectives from the canon pure Western thought, sure not Fanon, mind linked to the Enlightenment like a chain
Dr. Philosopher had a wife, oh, he adored her his high-school sweetheart, originally from Spain they were a match made in heaven who, since 1967, were so in LOVE — as if high on cocaine
Dr. Philosopher was no kind of loafer he worked hard and didn’t complain he did publish, not perish for success he did cherish he produced volumes again and again
Dr. Philosopher was too a pontificator him and jargon did together maintain dialogue dipped in airs and graces discourse formed in ivory spaces “disciplinary decadence”, in the main
Dr. Philosopher had made science his comforter until a great shock he did one-day sustain he got an emotional life puzzle, so profound, it did muzzle; rational thought went all straight down the drain
Dr. Philosopher become ever so lackluster — for months-on-end, he went almost insane: see, his love she got massacred someone left her so-so battered no rhyme or reason for so much pain
Dr. Philosopher now seeks succor in the Buddha as he no longer can live in vain he’s turned all kinds of humble since his life did so crumble he could no longer illusion contain