The high road, the low road, did it ever occur to the Thinker? When roads diverge to travel straight, down the unbeaten path. while molding their thoughts, all the while thinking nought and then traveling the hinterlands of studious minds. Who would have thought? Lost –wax after his kind. It is not carved in stone? Yet he frets at the Glyptotek A little under the weather in Cleveland repairs need to be made. Mindful that this man of the world, has never had an original thought, yet sets in places of prestige and cares not what you think? While countless wonder? What does he think, sitting at the gates of hell? Ponder awhile? Reflect on the intertext and then rail on, about a bricolage of the mind, which is not to be wasted in a land of nomads. tinker, tailor, a poet maker soldier, sailor, a thought shaker rich men, poor men, a writer’s end beggar man, thieves, and a mind penned the Thinker, the Tinker’s damn
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014
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