When earth's last thesis is copied
From the theses that went before,
When idea from fact has departed
And bare-boned factlets shall bore,
When all joy shall have fled from study
And scholarship reign supreme;
When truth shall "baaa" on the hill crests
And no one shall dare to dream;
When all the good poems have been buried
With comment annoted in full
And art shall bow down in homage
To scholarship's zinc-plated bull,
When there shall be nothing to research
But the notes of annoted notes,
And Baalam's ass shall inquire
The price of imported oats;
Then no one shall tell him the answer
For each shall know the one fact
That lies in the special ass-ignment
From which he is making his tract.
So the ass shall sigh uninstructed
While each in his separate book
Shall grind for the love of grinding
And only the devil shall look.
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Comments1Not really feelin' this one guys. For me, hard to fully connect with if ya know what I mean. Didn't spark any strong emotions or create vivid images as good poetry should do IMO. Though I understand the message it's tryin' to convey, it just didn't hit the mark for me. Bit too dry and academic. Better luck next time, I guess. 😕👎🙄