I like philosophy. Not as much as dentistry, but close. All that thinking. All those theories. All those notions about who the hell we are and why we do what we do. Endless questions with unknowable answers. It's like trying to put in an order at a McDonald's drive-thru.
Like bad poetry you say? Yes, Susan. Like bad poetry.
All those old men trying to make sense of reason, morals, knowledge and sometimes beauty while drinking absinthe. Lots of absinthe! Apparently it helps take the edge off. It does for me. My favorite philosophers were a branch of Sophist's who believed that nothing exists and if it did exist, it wasn't real. Ouch. Did anyone bother getting out of bed in ancient Greece? Anywhoodles, a few more bad poems so the day doesn't seem like a vortex of sin and degradation that sucks your soul out into a void off nothingness. Or...kittens sitting on a rainbow eating cotton candy. Your choice, of course.
Emanuelle Kant
Emanuelle Kant but
he probably could have
since it was entirely possible
at the time.
Neitzsche And The Ice-Cream Truck
God is dead.
But this atomic
berry blast popsicle
is heavenly.
Critical Thinking (Of You)
X equals my uptight girlfriend
Y equals fun-loving you
If X equals another day with that wing-nut
Y are we not having sex right now?
No comments:
Post a Comment