Wisdom’s Flow

I knew a man who knew a man who knew a man who new

but really not a one of them knew what they should really do,

so they just sat around all day and told each other tall tales

about the fonts of wisdom they’d sometimes bought at sales.

So it really didn’t matter what they did or did not know

when they formed their little gaggle and let their wisdom flow.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri
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