THE LAST ADDICTION
The last addiction of the Banquet Hall
When music, wine and women cease to thrill
- Is scholarship. When all is fed and full
The glutton mind for lore is hungry still.
My youthful appetite once whet
Through shelves of ripening books I madly ate,
Consuming works of experts old and new
Who peddle lies they half-believe are true.
Thus contradicting flavours filled my mind
Rendering science lame, religion blind.
Explain why ‘expertise’ - if not a game
Refutes its peers, when all should know the same.
So like a sleuth I questioned every work
And straightened each bent truth that tried to shirk
Its duty to maintain its rightful place
- And by this toil returned their lies to grace.
I was a master glutton in my time,
Could stomach every kind of verse and rhyme
And munch the dry old scientific fare
But now my belly has gone slack with care.
“I can’t contain the lore of man,” I sigh
“Nor learn the merest part before I die.
There’s so much pastry all around the pie,
Give me the plum and let the rest go by...”
My belly-mind was bettered by the feat
And now in modest measure do I eat
And chew it well, and thoroughly digest
- A little scripture, aye, and leave the rest.