I asked him why he was knocking On the door of an empty room. "Have you heard of Schrodinger's"- "Yes." "Well..." "But this is an empty room." And now (smirking), an exhibit: Erudition, in Four Namedrops and an Allusion. Socrates (anticipating Kerouac, anticipating Sgt. Schultz) said it best- But out of deference to his disdain for writing, we shan't set it down. Don't look into it, wise misanthropes have warned. Polonius's arid ownself may be all you find. The best most can hope for is to be pegged by a vivid simile. "Like a patient energised" autocorrect muses. I thought all this, despairingly, as I clocked his pretentious expression. He's parodying Matthew 7:7. He is still knocking. On the door of that empty room.
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This is a surprisingly atheistic poem for you, Sean. Of course, the room IS empty.