I

As to whether there persists—enlighten me—
a dialectic: labour into desire.
Forgive my small vocabulary that tries
and abides your patience. What a wonder’s
man the philosopher set on his throne.
What a wonder he is, and how
abysmal. I would not have you say
I speak ungratefully; or that there’s self
going spare in our unsparing tribute.
Arbeitsknecht by adoption, I never
slam down advice, even to shake the building.
Perhaps (but not likely) I may be still
a whizz at ordinary language and you
mishear things.

2

No, put this way: cancel, expunge, annul,
self-reference. Philosophy keeps up
embarrassment and expense. I’d quit us
of further scars had these now been incurred.
You’re magisterial in judgement’s gorge
where the rocks are at all angles and the stream
huggers its way through:
let’s flip with s ...

This article is available to subscribers and for individual purchase