Philosophizing

Straitened are the times And tight is my pocket. A glass of brandy Consumed with contemplation Is hard to bargain As speculators have poured in Shouting ‘buy’, ‘buy’, ‘buy’. Since out is the signal The hoarders have barged in And have emptied the market Of all the brandy, inclusive of The liquors that brandished Even a semblance of flavor That reminded them of this brand. After the run-on brandy Its prices have rocketed sky-high. Engulfed by indignation But still the avid lover That I am of this brand, I emptied my purse To offer me a bottle of brandy. Sipping the liquor in a glass And immersed in happiness I sat reinstated to my senses And to the art of philosophizing, And wondered whether the glass That I held in my hand Was half-full or half-empty. Misfit to this treacherous art But tied to pitfalls in my daily life, I sat there and gazed contently Through my half-filled glass With intent and pride, enthralled That I did not have to complain About things I can’t change.