Man’s Epitaph

Man’s Epitaph

I’m sick of intellectuals with their worthless evaluation!

Their tiny little gears, all meshed in circular motion.

I’m drinking! I’m laughing! I’m singing! I’m crying!

This goddamn life is such a joke, but god save me from dying.

This crazy little game with all its little rules

Is seriously being played by such a pack of fools.

I’m searching for a goddess to save me from my doom,

But I find my peace of mind, jerking off in my room.

I’m racing with the devil clock, who sucks me to my grave.

I kick him in the face, but I know I am death’s slave.

I’m looking for a good time, I’m out to have a laugh,

But then I look into their eyes and read man’s epitaph:

“Little flies on a whirling sun, they scorch their wings and die.

Pathetic but still heroic, they perish and don’t know why.”

John E Leahy

Ca 1980