‘how bout knowing naught’ By Tom Pennacchini

A not so gentle kick in the patooty and sent on
I would prefer to need no recourse to your legal so-called expertise and that goes for your medical too I repeat
I’d prefer to do without
Perhaps if you had an inkling of Nietzsche or enjoyed a repast with Schopenhauer but no
It’s always no
Perhaps if you had spent some time listening to Debussy or the Saints but again nay
For you it’s this monotonous focus on that one area that you have ever so diligently given all your time
and effort schooling on so that you can have the privilege and pleasure
of telling others what’s what.
What about doing some leisure spending time among the hills the rocks by and by while a glittering river rolls by
What about it sir? What about it madam?
Have you lingered much? Splayed? Let the time envelope you? Before it’s inevitable dispatch?
Sir? Madam?
And your listening resolutely lacks unless a colleague of yours speaks
Howsa bout perchance a listen to Lord Buckley? A languor by a Monticelli bouquet?
Remember laughter Remember humor before all this jive irony?
No sir. No madam.
Your arrogance is preposterous
I shall go to get my fill where the going is going in a matter manner befitting of ease and flow
Where the dream arrives at a (for now) full still…

You can read more by this self-described flaneur here and an interview in Portsmouth Poetry.

Photo: ‘The Death of Books’ By Kevin Dooley

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