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Dr Philosopher's Lost Luster

March 25, 2020

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

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