The philosopher who spoke carried such conviction
in his words, I even doused my cigarette and stopped
thinking sexual thoughts about the woman nearby.
That for me is real attention. Pitch black outside, I
imagined this hall a deep shaft in a gold mine. We had
gathered as Miners of Reality, Seekers of The Truth.
I yearned to mine nuggets to guide my life, a true train
The best-selling pop philosopher at the lectern in hunter-green
business suit—a power suit who does power lunches?—plied
his philosopher stone over a long train of high-octane thoughts.
He went on over an hour. Still, no thought, no word turned gold
as flies buzzed in the stale, muggy air.
G. Louis Heath, Ph.D., Berkeley, 1969, is Emeritus Professor, Ashford University, Clinton, Iowa. He enjoys reading his poems at open mics. He often hikes along the Mississippi River, stopping to work on a poem he pulls from his back pocket, weather permitting. He has published poems in a wide variety of online literary journals.