Aye Am The Questioning Sort

The more I learn, the more

I realize how little I know…

which insightful, gutsy,

entrancing, catchy apothegm

attributed to Socrates by way of Plato

subsequently self ranking myself

amidst Phylum Chordata with the Dodo bird

Class Aves (namely

said extinct flightless winged creature

with a mass of 29 – 51 pounds Oh!)

once endemic to the island of Mauritius,

east of Madagascar in the Indian Ocean,

none would be espied,

no matter how thorough

going across aquatic spreadsheet,

one might row

eventually coordinating

dropping vertical column in toto

arriving back to original

mentally ponderous premise

gamboling feint enroute to see

Old Man Wizard Of Oz

meets Crow Medicine Show

pitching thy quasi recursive query - bro

ching concurrence with another maxim to boot

“ignorance iz bliss”, which lack o'learn'n

doss appeal to this old coot,

yet such pithy accordance came

to this smart ass to late,

a mister wordsmith

with a palm pilot maximum glute

clamors (at risk of life and limb) to hoot

and holler when new kernel

of knowledge gleaned finds me mute

as if raw bit of savored information akin

to unearthing a rare gem,

or rare species of newt

temporarily allaying fervent quest to root

thru hefty tomes of great literature,

and tracts that suit

many other subjects,

less to be arrogant and toot

my own horn, but more so...

to satisfy an increasingly

insatiable hunger grow

wing nsync with unquenchable

thirsty ambition less for dough

(cuz bing po'

with treasure trove of voluminous

expansive bookish notions doth shaw

surpass becoming suddenly wealthy tin pot hustlers

with un hewn fifty nine shades of gray straw

this haint no cowardly lion seeking Androcles

to extract thorn from hum my faux paws.