Whitman walked the battle lines
Nursed, amputated galore;
Dickinson lived her lonely life
Observing flowers, pondering Death’s
Peculiar driving habits;
Faulkner wrote disturbing tales
About roses, angry noises
Stop the lousy, bitter, vile verbiage
And do something with yourself.
Knowing means nothing
Unless you act on it
Because thinking only
Causes trouble
For stinkin’ hypocrites.
Ball yourself up
And dribble down the hill
To little Grandma’s house
And put that cannon
On the grill.
Tell yourself—you can possibly know
Better than that woman
Over there, or that man
Whose arm outstretched
Longs for that girl with the daisy
In her hair.
Be careful not to tell anyone
That you heard it here—
They all think that life is
Far more philosophical
Far less practical–
That deep means smart
That smart means right
That right means good
That good means entitled
That entitled means better
That better means perfect
That there is something more than
Perfect.
Buy them a dictionary.
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