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The Lemur is enthroned on the heights of an island
In a luxurious villa, complete with a sauna and a pool
The Dormouse holds, modestly, a small pharmacy
Where people can buy necklaces, gemstones and pretty threads.

Every Monday morning the lemur fixes
His hair with a delicate ivory comb
Asks about the stock market in overflow
Swallowing a pure white powder in a row

His orange eyes threaten to explode
So he sits down, eats lobster and sated,
He doesn’t have a care in the world as descends the evening
His paw resting on a black jade cane stolen from the dormouse

Monday morning, the lemur, operational
Goes fast, pick and pickaxe at the mine
Extracting, sweaty, some beautiful spinel specimens
Hoping that one day at the Lemurian’s he would dine

For a trifle, the latter bought him
His most beautiful crystals and this without paying taxes
He became the leader of the island thanks to his kinsmen
The exotic animals knew something was wrong…

His only friends were the rich and the bohos
Under the yoke of this monkey, the island was a hellhole
Their chef was addicted to coconut powder
Whoever dared to say it was put in irons

When finally, an evening he overdosed
Nobody buried him among his friends
The Dormouse humbly undertook to do so
At the hole where he dug, he found a stone

The moral of the fable, listen to it then,
Who shows compassion exists with reason
Do not judge too fast, because we're leaving too early
Nature often rewards us in her own way.

September 11, 2019
Nancy, translated on November 17, 2019
Nelleah Nkosi Apr 2015
Jumping, bouncing and swinging from tree to tree
In a sparse forest just outside a village on the outskirts of Antananarivo
They adapt to the changes flung at them and strive to survive

On the ground a troop leaps sideways side by side in a straight line
What a comical spectacle
However solemn their purpose, they must find a home
The little one abaft of the line
Takes one last glimpse at the home he leaves behind
Oh it’s up in flames now and bulldozers knock down his trees
Beyond, just yonder
Over a hill further down south, the prospect is in sight
A new forest with new opportunities
It’s denser; it hasn't caught the eye of encroaching villagers
They forge on towards it in that spectacular procession

High up in the trees they mark their territory
Males call out to females and they howl in response
The young ones frolic in the underbrush
They mate, they eat, they thrive

Another forced migration
There they go again in that sideways march
More deforestation for infrastructure
There must be leeway for civilization one way or the other
One must wonder now
What future lies in store for these that have no place in government?
Their trails fade away from the Malagasy ecosystem
Their lives hang in a balance at the brink of extinction
Will our grandchildren ever get to appreciate
The extraordinary feats of agility they display
The gymnastics they perform from day to day
On the trees and on the ground in the jungle everyday
Ostentations of dramatic optical presentations
In their furry coats of monochromatic patterns
Perhaps they will disappear and my son’s sons may only get to
Read about them in the has been list of the annals of history
At this rate since erecting urban jungles
Of tar roads and skyscrapers is the order of the day
They might even be able to catch an obscure image of the lemur
In the form of a costumed trapezist mimicking one
Or a twisting contortionist in The Cirque Du Soleil









Nellie Nkosi
Conor Letham Apr 2014
We're on a train
in London's subways
and everyone stands
with a dead-eye peer
down the carriage, so
please, hold my hand.

They're all like apes,
hung on bamboo poles
and strung vine-straps,
hunkered over the small
space I have to myself, so
please, hold my hand.

I think you've become
just like them, Daddy;
a ringed-eyed orangutan
or narrow-staring lemur.
You've become much less
human it scares me, so
*please, let go of my hand.
Was on a train, mind on poetry, and came up with this brief idea.
Lewis Hyden Mar 2019
His new jacket,
Hot off the hot-sale shelves.
Strangely decadent - in the
Personal sense - yet straight,
Reserved, almost classy.
An honest facade, clean-cut

Hides within itself
A rich tapestry of ambiguity.
The lemur paws a jungle-vine,
From whence hangs a
Broad-winged and exotic bloom,
Rich with the complexity of a man

Whose aspect is honesty,
Simple integrity; but whose
Inner workings are ever more vivid
And complex, like the lush petals
Sewn through the lining of
His new jacket.
© Lewis Hyden, 2019
Brian Carson May 2016
(I imagine)
I am a moth circling around
the same beautiful flower
that a hungry lemur found
I land on the petals
entranced by the sweet smell of the nectar
and the comfort of the weather
I hear the snap of a twig
and every time I have heard that sound
I cease to exist
then a cloud appears and I begin again
my heart is in the right place
but I am not sure where that is

from my childhood
I recall seeing a cocoon
and that strange memory
makes me think of you
I can not explain the feeling of
watching something about to bloom
all the while hoping it will fly home to sooth
a paranoia that my life has seemed to have proved true
I try with all my strength to hold it
but through my fingers it always seems to slip through

I will just turn away and head on back home
I am tired and that road is just too long
to walk with these poorly healed broken bones
I seem to be better at being alone
but I seen that rainbow
I swear I did
appear in front of us
but we did not know
that we will always be kids
and it is just a myth to be grown
there is this chick across the street walking her lemur—
wow I wonder if the lemur likes to roleplay as a bird.
on the street, i am not alone—for i have my chicken McNuggets
and i can hear the translucent ocean through a floating **** cheek
have you ever seen a young fawn in a window?
Yeah, me neither. But i do like to eat wooden tables.
i want to blog about how the sky is filled with clouds
that look like the inside of a pillow.
martin Apr 2016
There was not much to do down at the zoo
They were all getting bored, wouldn't you?
The keeper was called, we're out of our minds
Help us out, if you'd be so kind

The keeper said, so what can I do?
I'd like to help but give me a clue

Well, said the giraffe it may sound daft
But I've always wanted to play the harp
You know what,  said the baboon
I would like a big bassoon
The emu said, I really do feel
A hankering after a glockenspiel
The lemur requested a violin
Certain he'd coax a tune from the thing
The elephants stood all in line
Already they could trumpet in time
The gorilla said he could use his thumb
To bang away on a big bass drum

They all got their wish, it was quite a scene
And proudly they played God Save the Queen
Happy 90th birthday to our lovely Queen
Brian Oarr Jul 2012
The artist chose concrete to sculpt The Kiss.
Playfully made the woman taller than the man,
his gaze uplifted, filled with total captivation ---
lemur eyes, mustached smile, desire unmistakable.
Her arm about the nape of neck, hand caressing cheek,
certainly she cherishes him, intentionally stokes his passion.
Concrete the perfect medium for immortality.

This image implanted firmly, as I take my morning walk,
when it hits me, somewhere between Key Bank,
7-11 across the street, and John Deere lawn equipment,
why it is, women place such importance upon relationships,
why they love us, despite flaws numerous as wharf rats.
They have an unremitting need for romance.
That's what the sculptor knew and finally I do too.
See the statue here --->>>  http://olympiawa.gov/community/parks/public-art/the-kiss
The Good Pussy Oct 2014
.
                                  Ivory
                       ­      Billed Wood
                            pecker  Amur
                   ­       Leopard  Javan
                          R h i n o cer o s
                          Northern Sport
                          Lemur N o r t h
                          ern Right Whal
                          e The S a o l  a-
                          Asian   Unicorn
                          L e a t h erback
                          S e a T u r t  l  e
            Siberia T i g e r    Chinese G i a n t
          S      a        l       a     m     a    n  d   e   r
           T h e     L I t t l e     D  o d o    B i  r  d
              A m e r i c a n           D  I   c   k
wander abaht atter a home
as av no bairns ad Tek us in
so the living hereabahts
rush inside
early doors
afore sunset
lock doors
pull down shades,
turn mirrors to walls

do all to stop me seeing em
for if I did
I'd carry 'em off.

*** named a monkey
after us, the lemur
cos we big eyes
are aht at neet
and mek ghost noises

so bairns bang *** lids
howl like wolves
joined by tarn dogs,
to frit us away

while nannans spin abaht,
splash boiling watta
rahnd rooms with a wooden ladle .

Am one dead al not find a home.

   I'd carry 'em off.
Another for the month
persefona Apr 2015
its a blur.
I enter the video club and so does my dog after me.
the whole ******* place has been screened by monumental steel animals equipped with cameras down to their *******. monkeys, giraffe, flamingo all ruled by a lemur.

the video club holds an exit.
they require some german skills which somehow i avoid. we drink some beers.
a rabbit whole- thats the way out of the video club
from digital to analog. they say a new system came but their cassettes keep them safe.
cringemaster Apr 2016
You told me you loved me so much
no matter what you felt or where you were
you told me you would be my lovepug
my birdie, my lemur
and now seem to have no hesitation to leave
JoJo Nguyen Jul 2015
Don't hate the Playa,
hate the game.
But do you believe in a brave
new Gaming World?

A Halo sheen,
sheathing ancient veins,
pulsating, and spurting
forth the same old sins to love,
while we saunter and strut,
pointing at taunted sinners to hate.

It's hard loving Playas,
cuz they smells, and cuss like a *******.
Dumb ***** singing
beautiful Indri morning
wake up gospels from an old extant
lemur memory trace.
Tammy M Darby Sep 2015
Zephyr winds bade me follow
To the black coolness of the night
Do bear my souls sum
Call forth the God Apollo
Upon his lyre strum

Pray the voices of nine muses
A lullaby to soothe me
As a willing soul
I open the box of sleep

May the son of Hermes
Lively cloven hoof centaur Pan
Join me in sweet slumber
Birds song on pipes
Of hollowed stem reed

Through shadows of Pluto I pass
As I sail into Neptune's blue green oceans deep
Hear the wails of the lemur's sorrow
Song of poor Orpheus love and plight
Gently wake me on the morrow

This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),
M Mar 2014
I didn't used to have a favorite color
My grandma, her name was Mimi, her favorite color was green
She was a gardener, her garden always abloom with the most beautiful flowers I'd ever seen
Her favorite color was green
A plant green, bright and vibrant, just like she was until fourth grade anyways
She had an infatuation with monkeys, she had monkey lamps, monkey stuffed animals
I still have the one she gave me
Two years after she gave me Leme the lemur, she died
It was a heart attack
As I looked at her at her funeral, I thought about the monkeys, I thought about her flowers, I thought about green, that shade she loved, reminded her of the plants, the flowers, reminded her of life
Ironic, her favorite color a lively green as she lay dead, the only time I saw her without a smile
I think that's when I decided green was my favorite color
It reminds me of the monkeys, of the flowers. Of the lady I love
And miss
Almost every day I see her green
It helps, almost like I still have a part of her
She gave me her green to help me
She knew I'd need it
Mae Mar 2018
Most people get a thrill
Me, I just get a chill
Yes, it’s true, I used to love it
But bit by bit, I came to dread it
I didn’t really have a place
I often thought I was only taking up space


Still, there were many good days
And those were thanks to others’ praise
I’d do anything for those around me
Those people who brought some glee
I also had my good friend the “lemur”
She helped me to become a believer

Believe in the system they said
However, I think we were being misled
Instead, I embraced the presence of others
Especially that of the mothers
They would say let’s just chat
And forget all about that

I never knew what Saturday’s would bring about
However, I’d always have plenty of time to see it all play out
Sometimes I’d get a smile or a squeeze on the shoulder
One told the other, “Oh, it surely consoled her”
All in all, I’m glad I was there
Times were hard but without it, I’d be nowhere
Jennifer Beetz Nov 2019
"Yeah, that's 'Almost' with an 'A', yup, kind like
'John Amos' but with a 't' on the end,  also with
an 'l' between the 'a' and the 'm'..."
"Huh? Who's John Amos? jaysus feckin christ,
'Good Times'? The guy with the wide nostrils?
Bad example, sorry, let's move on..."  
"...that's 'a' as in 'aardvark', 'l' as in... no no no, only
one 'a'... 'l' as in 'lemur', 'm' as in... '******' (this
person knows how 'aardvark is spelled?) 'o' as in
'o my god', 's' as in... 'seizure'- yeah, that's 'seizure'-
S,E,I,Z,... no no no! not 'c'! 'z' as in 'zoo'...  'u' as in
(******* christ) 'UNICEF'... yeah, UNICEF, I think it's
an anagram... huh? ANAGRAM! with an 'a'!  'a' as in..."
"Okay, so that's 'a'... where the **** were we? NO
I WON'T WATCH MY LANGUAGE! Anyway where
the **** are you? Mumbai? As in former Bombay?
(why'd they change the name?)... and why do they
only train you in English cuss words? What was that?
What I just said or how do I spell my name? o crap just
never mind."
"...'o'? What's after 'o'? You mean you're actually keeping
track?!? wow! Forget what I said about your training-
you're a ******* genius... O... no, not 'o'! Only one
'o'! So, one 'o', not two, not..."
"In fact, **** it, I don't give a **** anymore, add an 'o'
to my name, call me "Almoost" call me "Bitchface", huh?
You wanta know how I spell Bitchface?"
"Where were we... 'o'... NO! NOT A THIRD 'O'!"
" 's' as in **** **** ****... and 't' as in um, Tel Aviv
... hello? HELLO???"
"O my god o my god omygodomygod I just got
disconnected!"
"NOOOOOOOO"!
Nick Stiltner Feb 2018
The ravens catch wind of my secrets,
Hidden words veiled from light.
A ghost wandering through the yard,
A frantic hand scrambles for his pen.

Specter that drifts among all,
The sleep walker slouches with
The rest, but life had long lost
It’s interest.

Eyes of lemur, tilted to the side
As if to inquire the dark.
Inward voice and scattering wind
Dry leaves blown down the empty street.

Ghost man with his ghost hands
Greek warriors in their horse, invading Trojan Lands.
Thoughts reaching sky and the stars
Sending their replies, condolences.
Mateuš Conrad May 2017
etymology... darwinism on a comprehensive time-scale... past the psychologism of rationalising the onomatopoeia of uh... ah... of a, ******* monkey to a man speaking... and which one to begin with as worthy an origin? chimpanzee? gorilla? lemur? where did bio-diversity disappear to, to state, man, uno? i'd prefer the story of the origin of eskimos... than of africans... i honestly can't be bothered in placing my heart into africa... i want the eskimo story; i'm just tired of the narrative in the current zeitgeist... it's just tiring.*

the etymological basis of the science is prefix-based, or suffix-based, considering origin? i.e. do you begin the origins with -on, or na-? na-tive, or informati-on? past the pentagram variation of vowels (+h, to catch)? it's a genuine question; does tha study of etymology begin with a prefix, or a suffix? tail to a monkey, coccyx to man? head to either as prologue?

oh we're dead, oh we're *the
dead;
hello!
     fish sappings worth of a tails'
    waggling?
you "alive" people are,
******* & boring me with your
"aliveness"
  when i'm dressed to mention
the existene of newspapers...
stop being boorish with my eyes,
i'm scratching them too much!
the european version of the ***
associate... i just opened a can of
                                        sardines...
oh, fair enoguh... you just had
raw salamon, wrapped
                       in mini-rice-"breads";
to be honest?
   i really prefer the ethno-centric
     collapse of cuisine...
     the herrings! the herrings!
the baltic "sushi" of pickled herrings!
        sometimes i can't say squash
without squirming, adding to the act
the word, lemon: and chin chin... china;
a humphrey bogart ask, of:
      kiss me, dear.
you're about done,
either you're faking it...
or you're staging a **** of other cultures,
which means they're justifying, attacking your
    "culture", with due precedence;
what's that like, expressed, justifiably? ha ha
let's just say, the ******* can
start screaming,
i'll still prefer baltic pickle herrings over
sushi. i'm no western european ***-wipe.
Becca Smith Apr 2017
I stretch my tiny hands into the sun
extend my legs to be neighbors with roots
flutter my eyes like a hummingbird's wings
open them wide as a lemur
duck and roll out of my fortress of blankets
clunky feet stamp across hardwood floors
I search in the wooden box of treasures
strip the adornments of my slumber
step into my cozy black attire for the day
jingle my keys as I close the bars to my castle
reach one foot into the world
forgetting my place
I am a rabbit caught in a trap
cars whip by, my brain starts to hum
I slip my headphones in
hundreds of heavy bodies barrel into one another
flickers of flames lick my boiling skin
crescent moons indent the rosy lines of my future
my lungs are charred and shrinking
this foggy place is still
metal on my temple
the silence is submerged in the echo of a bang I will never hear
my body whimpers and wilts
why does His hand always crave the trigger
I whisper a curse like a hymn
to the yellow orb that laughs
at the hundred steel links scraping against pavement
like His personal symphony of madness
not done
I could've been a lemur
But the deity decided to make me a human
And now I'm here and you're here
And we both wish that we were somewhere else
Ah... nothing more enjoyable
than acidic gastric fluid (bile)
flowing backward into esophagus,
resulting in heartburn, meanwhile
disrupting pleasant dreams,
which phenomena also known as
gastroesophageal reflux (GER)
found me discombobulated
and swiftly tailored into harried style.

Unsure how successful literary endeavor
crafting reasonably rhyming poem;
actually the following
written a couple years ago
with only slight modification
regarding aforementioned topic
yielding moderately satisfactory
(née middling) result.

While deeply asleep
scant minutes before dawn's early light
burning sensation within deep
tracts of throat did creep,
yours truly immediately awoke
with a start, at strong violent
urge to upheap
(upchuck, toss my cookies, regurgitate...)
insync on par to set Guiness Book
of world records to leap
analogous to lemur

at lightspeed into bathroom,
(these lovely bones
ne'er made jaunt to water closet
but collapsed in a heap -
injuring right hand in the process)
nevertheless, I made little
on the contrary no bowed peep,
but immediately stood
bolt upright stock still
after crumbling to the floor
tear ducts activated eyes
as if ready to weep.

Sadness less pervasive than fright
since reverse peristalsis uncommon
within mine body electric regarding plight,
which analogous volcanic eruption
albeit bubbling magmatic flow slight
retroperistalsis or antiperistalsis
found yours truly
on par with fire breathing dragon argh
ga you ably momentarily nonplussed -
while dry cough minus gushing lava
gratefully only smoldered before simmering

upper gastrointestinal lining
courtesy mouthfuls of bottled water
allowed, enabled, and provided satiation
sudden unquenchable thirst relieved
resultant unpleasant aftertaste (no pun
intended), yet distilling humor helps
me weather, manage, cope... with
unexpected physiological fiery phenomena
- shot straight up within digest
heave tract, and did lament this rick
kitty packet of muscle and bone aft

times susceptible to disheartening
woebegone news afflicting this non
Norwegian bachelor farmer, whom
if the missus cooking triggered bout
unleashing bit torrent of unsavory
plate tectonics, perhaps indicative
of continental drift shrunk down to
miniature, (think nanobot size)
where fault in thee stars
must be held in contempt of court.

No reason for inclusion of above verse,
(previous ten lines), I just wanted
to incorporate said phrases, tip peer
me got some legal lear'n, when truth
Philly admits he seems to know less,
the more he learns, which prompts me to

posit emphatically that ignorance
equivalent to bliss, thus presenting
quandary how kin this pronouncedly
reasonably intelligent garden variety
**** sapiens unfetter himself with

cumulative knowledge without reek
horse (neigh) to invasive surgery such as...
prefrontal lobotomy, or tamping down
smarts some unknown cyber surfer(s)
could easily misconstrue as vainness,
smugness, quintessential pomposity?
alternately titles: I got noose for you,
Yours truly doth garrotte tee
another itsy bitsy,
betsy wetsy easy breezy read.

oft times ('specially
these latter unsainted days and nights)
in white satin death
doth haunt me atheistic zeitgeist
which thoughts of my demise
crowds out purposeful thinking
in the twitching mind kampf
paradigm of this atheist
hence, he betook himself
to this MacBook Pro,
while swiss side dull ideations

for professional intercession, could not wait
asper affecting cathartic,
purgative, harmonic tête-à-tête
and providing a meaningful surrogate
to expunge morbid mental state
accessed Open Office
and let fingers
(of left hand) do talking heads
to an imaginary therapist
across this qwerty keyboard

allowing, enabling, and
at the quickest typing rate
striving to captcha dismal, gloomy,
and ill lust tree us
deplorable mood aye equate
with pitching into
a bottomless abyss where pate
fed ceaseless diet of NON GMO –
a last repast
the grim reaper did orchestrate

gluten free, an extra heavy dose
of monosodium glutamate,
which ingredient doth
BuzzFeed thine appetite
for total mortal exterminate
'thou no need n re:coe fermi to rush,
where angels fear
to tread, cuz but better Nate
than lever, the apothegm,
credo, ethos...Kate
(the caterer maintains

an open exit from life,
and cares only
that each soul doth feel elan,
joie de vivre, and psalm times
a leaping lemur chants, ecstatically finally
gustatory humming don't jubilate
for your final homecoming, or else
the mailer daemon lived
a devilish dervish life will instigate
de coup age d'etat, but such extreme

measure for measure heed doth hate
yet exceptions always made for a date
particularly when henchmen to die for
golden age opportunity
to ****** a generic guy a create
an underground soiree will cease,
when ashes master
of hell raising
unpleasant circumstances twill use as bait
let underground missionary be advocate.
Rudder than trigger, provoke,
incite..., voodoo curse
necessitating emergency visit
courtesy doctor Demento or his nurse
methought best to craft (airily)
nonsense sickle verse
yikes! maybe iamb
steadily getting worse

as poetaster wannabe,
which prognosis bodes ill
and p'raps best **** sitter
underwater basket weaving
enlist as water boy re: bucket
brigade for Jack and Jill,
hence imagine yours truly
amazingly gracefully dipping quill

within inkwell exerting intense utmost
control to keep right ting hand still
to pen employment
query expressing thrill
and natural born talent
to hand dill
you can easily envision me
balancing bucket fill

water atop noggin donned gone down
appellation trail resembling fountainhead
strengthening neck muscles till
yours truly capable
to shoulder and shrug Atlas
alas especially beneficial
in case arsonist kindles conflagration
preparation guaranteed courtesy fire drill

dashing hither and yon, to and fro
even at expense resembling
beetle browed fool on the hill
nonetheless earning reputation
continually increasing numbers
balancing full buckets with nary a spill
leaping lemur far and wide
globetrotting yawping shrill

excitement acquiring nonpareil skill
experiencing pride without prejudice
(nodding to ghost of Jane Austen),
perhaps launching startup Lil
Buck Kit Waters - drumming up business,
expanding, hiring, kickstarting franchise

oh... wealth estimated at least trill
yon, helping non antagonizing peep hill
drafting, modifying, updating... living will
in case I kick bucket unexpectedly
distributing liquid assets as good will.
Ah... nothing more enjoyable
than acidic gastric fluid (bile)
flowing backward into esophagus,
resulting in heartburn, meanwhile
disrupting pleasant dreams,
which phenomena also known as
gastroesophageal reflux (GER)
found me discombobulated
and swiftly tailored into harried style.

Unsure how successful literary endeavor
crafting reasonably rhyming poem;
actually the following
written a couple years ago
with only slight modification
regarding aforementioned topic
yielding moderately satisfactory
(née middling) result.

While deeply asleep
scant minutes before dawn's early light
burning sensation within deep
tracts of throat did creep,
yours truly immediately awoke
with a start, at strong violent
urge to upheap
(upchuck, toss my cookies, regurgitate...)
insync on par to set Guiness Book
of world records to leap
analogous to lemur

at lightspeed into bathroom,
(these lovely bones
ne'er made jaunt to water closet
but collapsed in a heap -
injuring right hand in the process)
nevertheless, I made little
on the contrary no bowed peep,
but immediately stood
bolt upright stock still
after crumbling to the floor
tear ducts activated eyes
as if ready to weep.

Sadness less pervasive than fright
since reverse peristalsis uncommon
within mine body electric regarding plight,
which analogous volcanic eruption
albeit bubbling magmatic flow slight
retroperistalsis or antiperistalsis
found yours truly
on par with fire breathing dragon argh
ga you ably momentarily nonplussed -
while dry cough minus gushing lava
gratefully only smoldered before simmering

upper gastrointestinal lining
courtesy mouthfuls of bottled water
allowed, enabled, and provided satiation
sudden unquenchable thirst relieved
resultant unpleasant aftertaste (no pun
intended), yet distilling humor helps
me weather, manage, cope... with
unexpected physiological fiery phenomena
- shot straight up within digest
heave tract, and did lament this rick
kitty packet of muscle and bone aft

times susceptible to disheartening
woebegone news afflicting this non
Norwegian bachelor farmer, whom
if the missus cooking triggered bout
unleashing bit torrent of unsavory
plate tectonics, perhaps indicative
of continental drift shrunk down to
miniature, (think nanobot size)
where fault in thee stars
must be held in contempt of court.

No reason for inclusion of above verse,
(previous ten lines), I just wanted
to incorporate said phrases, tip peer
me got some legal lear'n, when truth
Philly admits he seems to know less,
the more he learns, which prompts me to

posit emphatically that ignorance
equivalent to bliss, thus presenting
quandary how kin this pronouncedly
reasonably intelligent garden variety
**** sapiens unfetter himself with

cumulative knowledge without reek
horse (neigh) to invasive surgery such as...
prefrontal lobotomy, or tamping down
smarts some unknown cyber surfer(s)
could easily misconstrue as vainness,
smugness, quintessential pomposity?

— The End —