Thursday, April 12, 2012
Some of us still live in Plato's cave.
We watch shadows of banners on the ground,
Think the wind blows because they wave.
The clock strikes 1:28 without a sound.
The white sails and smoke from schooners
And passenger trains stop us in our tracks,
Deliver us from all evil two minutes sooner.
What's more ethical, smoke from a stack?
We must beat cannonballs into artichokes
If our will to power be apotropaic.
I think, therefore I am a brainy bloke,
Make skies green with my mental voltaic.
The real world is both sweet and absurd.
Philosophers are only made of words.