Yet the Emperor Was Rubbish in the End

Stoics have been back in vogue
In a minor kind of way.
Even their ekpyrotic

Concept of cyclic cosmos
Has scored a bit of comeback,
Thanks to theoretical

Physicists, while the bloggers
Of more enlightened living
Have half-turned from Zen to them.

That they were an elitist,
Dei-centric philosophy
Of a slave-holding empire

Seems rather beside the point,
Given their pithy sayings
About how to live and die.

Is that the best we can do,
As your servant languages,
Provide you pithy sayings,

Wholesome bread of faithful speech?
The legacy of the mind
Is a thrift shop, a back bin,

A rack of donated books,
A business almost no one
Ever really profits from,

But still beloved, but still
The shabby emporium
Found in every little town

Or almost, both nostalgic
And slightly ridiculous,
The cyclic economy

Of old ideas, the small store
In some narrow brick building,
How-to books, old frocks, cracked lamps.