A POEM FOR PHILOSOPHERS by Mark Terrill Some old proto-Freudian out of the German Yellow Pages is looking up at me from the kitchen floor where he's installing a new P-trap under my kitchen sink, telling me about how things are and how they used to be and the glaring differences between these two. What is it about these German plumbers who invariably turn the slightest incident into a philosophical conundrum? Beclouded in my grid of craziness and conceit, the months go stuttering by with their recondite equanimity. For all these years now I've been hardening on the outside, softening on the inside, my soul a flimsy exoskeleton oxidizing in the exhaust fumes, now alarmingly transparent in the harsh light of day. I wouldn't so much mind the long fall from grace if it didn't have to last for an entire lifetime. 'A Poem for Philosophers' © 2008 by Mark Terrill from THE SALVADOR-DALAI-LAMA EXPRESS
You’d better expect your plumber being a Freudian if you want to open up to the wonders of reality. 🙂