Fool’s Odyssey 9

Fool's Odyssey

To read Fool’s Odyssey from the beginning, click here.

Chapter Two: My Life of Happy Materialism in London (Continued)

Previously: The Fool’s life of gleeful consumption ran out of steam before it even began.

I woke up at three in the morning and just sat there.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

“Come unto me.” 


Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…


There it was again, that voice,

calling me to leave my fun

and go look over the edge.


“Let me have my drug and leave me alone!” I shouted


But the truth was, my drug wasn’t fun anymore.

My drug was a drag–past tense.

So I just sat there listening to the moonlight,



Trinkets, trinkets in the stream

of consciousness of those who dream.

Have our hearts been bought and sold

while yet were forming in the mold?


Rise and shut your window then.

Grab your wife and start again.

Leave your posturepedic mat,

your vegomatic Tudor flat;

discard that polyglot of charms

and take your babies in your arms.


Then run into the streets and shout

‘til everyone at last comes out.

Toss your telly in the tree,

deny your car and follow me.


Ah, I thought, the sleep of the labouring man is sweet,

whether he eat little or much. 

But the abundance of the rich will not suffer them to sleep. 

For there is a sore evil which I have seen under the sun,

namely riches kept by the owners thereof to their own hurt. 

For those riches perish by evil travail.

A man begets a son, and there is nothing in his hand. 

As he came forth from his mother’s womb, naked shall he return. 

 All is vanity, said the wise man,

vanity and chasing after wind.


All is nothing, said the fool.


To read Fool’s Odyssey 10, click here.

About mitchteemley

Writer, Filmmaker, Humorist, Thinker-about-stuffer
This entry was posted in Culture, Fool's Odyssey, Humor, Memoir, Poetry, Story Power and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Fool’s Odyssey 9

  1. Pingback: Fool’s Odyssey 8 | Mitch Teemley

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