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A Eulogy For Dopamine
crumbled under shower-heat-
can anything be worth this?
Worth pendulum-strokes, sorrow-joy,
and feeling so damn worthless?
When futile battles end themselves,
It`s myself that I’m debating;
most useful bowl, in emptiness
is also most self-hating.
Will it ever be enough?
I fear that it will not:
For all the feathers in my cap,
a bird can not be bought.
But when the Bhudda said “we must not want,
for wanting leads to suff’ring”,
did he know you can be anything,
as long as you want something?
For in this world of everything,
O everything consumes me:
though the cruellest month April may be
in August`s felt the cruelty.
