After reading the axiom, “Chance will always bring home
a few boats unsteered,” this one person for a period of a period
or more, fell into a fitful funk, sitting and pondering whether
he’d prefer to have good luck, a good captain, or just a reliable rudder.
Moral: Another man’s wisdom can be all wet.
(P.S.: As you know, Morales’ The Mischievous Milieu of Mordant
Maritime Workers got me to add this under threat of blackmail,
that I don’t wish to go into at this time.)
In the middle of that continuing heated debate at the bar
regarding, “Heredity vs Environment,” one gent banged his glass down
and declared, “We are all the mugs of our father’s beer!”
(Shortly after this brief outburst, they went back to discussing
the NBA draft and Existential ethics.)
A “fault line” is the geographic centre of all cities.
Advice one sole sun gave its young moon, as he left for the City,
“If someone tells you, ‘We’ll get to that later,’ you go for it right then.”
(And the heavens-were-alive with the sounds of heavens.)
And finally, if you don’t believe the City
looks after its own, chow down on this:
Just because you’re better
doesn’t mean you’re different.
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