One City’s educational system
was so progressive and exploratory
that during winter months
they replaced their school buses
with reassuring phrases from Shelley.
Taking center stage (actually, sod) in the area customarily reserved for itinerant speakers, public disclaimers, and your other sundry ole sore heads, up stepped a man shaggy of hair, long of beard, wrapped in leaves and tatters of assorted remnants, and smelling of long times. He spread his arms and announced, “All I know I learned from the worms.” And a lady by a tree remarked, “And you felt that to be less than obvious, now did you?”
While all around him
people were changing their name,
this one guy abandoned his.
In this one City it began to get dark at day break, and started to become light at sunset; in retaliation their local Thinker suggested they reverse the terms “day time” and “night time” to set things back aright, and all the people gathered in the civic center to express their gratitude for the existence of synonyms.
One of the side benefits of not caring
is that no one knows you don’t;
(this based upon the electro-magnetic
assumption that you understand that
part of not caring is in not talking about it);
thus no one knows you don’t care
in the first place.
One of the funnest – I’m sorry,
I mean, more pleasant aspects –
of routine is in hurting it –
even just the LEAST little bit.