Back to ... back to ... school ...
In my dreams I was clothed
But in real time I was naked
Learning how to fail
On the ledges of buildings
That's why they call them
Institutions of learning I suppose
Where those who have failed
The most indignantly wait
With eternal patience
For someone to walk through the maze
Without realizing they're a rat
But most can sense their own
Whiskers at the gate
And can see around the light
The huddled figures
And soon they're circling around
In apology
For daring think that they were
All they had thought
And so the true metier
The consolation begins ...
For not being smart enough
To handle mediocrity
For lacking the discipline
To let their minds turn to mold
For liking the avocado toast along the way
More than Brahms
