Philosophizing

Straitened are the times And tight is my pocket. A glass of brandy Consumed with contemplation Is a hard bargain As speculators have poured in Shouting “buy,” “buy,” “buy.” Since the signal is out 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 myself a bottle. 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 contentedly Through my half-filled glass With intent and pride, enthralled That I did not have to complain About things I can’t change.