“Better to drown
In the sea of utility
Than to die of exhaustion
On the plains of futility!”
“Hey, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
We asked him — but the guru only smiled.
His enigmatic words drove students wild
With a frustration that could seem obscene.
Pissed every time that damn class would convene,
I myself often harried and reviled
The Teacher of the Mysteries, self-styled.
Serenity’s a sneer, both hard and lean–
And he was expert in serenity.
My hostile witticisms caused no pain.
He went on with his planned soliloquy.
Attend close or ignore him, all was vain.
After he died, we hastened to agree:
We’d miss his hapless heart, his bumbling brain.