Seven

It is being rumored in some quarters,
(and debated in other half crowns), that
low cholesterol prevents proverbs.

No matter how they may define it, rhapsodize it, no matter how many beauty
contests they hold or swim suit issues they publish, man finds the ultimate
resplendence, the supreme beauty, to be not an object, no my lovelies,
but the enchantress habit. (Think about this calmly, and see if all the visible
evidence does not preclude the preeminence of any other competitor.)

This one ole sore-head with a patch was really letting life have it one day,
“Sometimes I get a special thrill over the stupidity of humanity, and the futility
of their lives…just look at science, their ‘grand achievement’ and especially in
the areas such as mathematics where they tried to finally come up with an
intelligent, objective language that would be free of human bias, and personal
prejudice, and look what good it did ‘em – hah…see what I mean?”
His better turned son said, “Seven.”

A reading from the book,
A Child’s Garden Of Verse For The Extremely Unruly Child;
“I have a little friend who thinks for me,
I have a little friend who speaks for me,
I have a little friend who’s not really my friend at all,
but who is me – Ha ha ha…but no, seriously folks.”

In this one system a new game,
“Quell The Disturbance,”
is sweeping their neurons.
(This system will add little to the Gross National Product.)

J.