Hell,
Don’t listen to an old coot like me.
I’d wipe my ass with these degrees,
For my vehemence at institutions.
My disgust for the establishment.
Anarchist heart,
Will never die.
Punk will ride until the very end,
As decreed by those before me.
But listen to the scientists,
Philosophers,
Artists.
Once,
I was a teacher.
Already a lifetime ago,
Son of a logger.
Trying to become a guru,
In infinite mortality.
Just another man,
Doomed to die.
I live for the dead,
It shall be an honor to return to them.
It’s always about going home,
In the end.
Follow The Empirical Method,
Provable Hypothesis,
And Theory.
My divinity,
Hallowed in every way.
Let us revere Science as a god,
Godless as we are.
A thousand years from now –
Read these words,
And know you can be better,
Than you were yesterday.
Kinder.
Gentler.
More human than cryptid.
Don’t listen to an old bastard like me,
Somehow outliving the neurodivergent bell curve.
It’s the 21st century.
Nobody values a savant.
Anarchist Heart.
