Philosophy As A Poem Poem by RIC BASTASA

it was all philosophical
one side of it was clearly phenomenological
(which leans on the pedagogical)
and the old lonely people listened as though he was playing his violin
the music pierces their weary hearts and the silence seemingly
agrees that they all need to die,
'this is the exit' he points to an absurd door which looks like
a wing,
and when they get near the wing flaps like the seasons of the times.

those who are new to the place call it
poetry.

deep in my heart i know it isn't
because it is not magical and less musical than expected in
a sing-song structure of a lyric and
far from it
not porphyritic. whatever that means, it inserts itself in one
corner of my mind,

it was a wooden boat, blue and scorched,
floating on a very clear morning water,
preoccupied with its shadow like narcissus bending forever
towards itself and then

dies of that self-love
burning himself into the ashes of selfishness

but why is he remembered? why was he there?