I tried to be poetic to a man who deals in numbers
He said “Boy, don’t be pathetic. Just tell me how it is”
I tried to trim my tale, that one that I’d been spinning
But to no avail I couldn’t help but make a scene
I rambled on for years, talking long into the night
I was in and out of tears, the man rolled his eyes
When I finally took a breath he interjected with this pill...
Said “Boy, I deal in death and now it’s you I’d like to kill.
I’m the one who gives and takes, the gatekeeper of life
And I fear that must say, you’ve been waisting your time
With your skeptic views of the life you’ve been given
Don’t speak to me again until you’ve read what’s been written.”
So I took him at his word and I crawled my way home
My tail between my legs and a goal to be transformed
I started boning up, reading Campbell’s “Thousand Faces”
And folded every corner of Jung’s learned pages
I dined with theologians and licked their plates clean
Pontificating daily over smokes and caffeine
I found peace of mind then lost it so quickly
In hipster conversations, in a hip part of the city
Flustered in a flutter, forebode and unfulfilled
Drowning in a puddle, dangerously distilled
Surprising speculation, seek to clearly see
Occidental admiration is not owed to me
How could a profound love be found in a heart watered down?