Telling Jokes, Sweeping Streets

My eternally optimistic guru blithely
claims achieving success is our na-
tural birthright, ay, there’s the rub, I
was born to be a successful tea-girl,
cleaner, singer and dreamer

I am the worst academic that has ever
been, therein lies my glory, the harder
I try the worse the result, the higher my
motivation, the greater the boredom
I am an example to others

How NOT to live your life, what dreams
to never cherish, not to think you can do
anything you wish, never try your best
when your natural proclivity is to play
the fool, telling jokes, sweeping streets

I was meant to stoke fires in Hades,
rowing lost spirits across the river Stix,
do hard manual labour, cross the famed
Drakenberg barefoot, dress stones in
prison, intone a repetitive song

While gathering mistletoe for a witches’
brew to give to the manically depressed,
to make inane remarks while washing
people’s feet, become an ill-fated court
jester, be a kamakazi soldier in some

Adventurous war…