Incurable idealists

 

That’s us and proud of it,
inveterate as workaholics,
poor in everything except imagination,
hopelessly unpractical but wise
with spiritual insight
and never to be fooled
by a society of phony carpetbaggers,
experts most of all at wasting other people’s money,
so we are perhaps more fortunate without
and always having something good to live for.
Although we are just a happy few,
we couldn’t be in better company,
and most and best of all:
unlike all slaves of this society of bleak delusions,
with idealism as some incurable disease,
we never are alone.

 

© aurelio 2020
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Guaj

I’m not sure I am an incurable idealist. I think my ideals are slowly melting away, or perhaps being eroded by the madness we call modern society. I’d like to be like Geoffrey Labowski, but I don’t smoke. I’s like to be a nihilist but I don’t believe I could handle it.

I liked this poem

no idealism for me, but I am too tempted a lot by nihilism lately and I also don’t believe I could handle it.

oh well…

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