Socrates and Prictese
were sitting in the shade.
Prictese asked of Socrates
„What makes you so great?“
„I am not sure,“ said he,
„perhaps my knobbly knees.
It won’t be my philosophy,
for that is just a tease.“
„I don’t mean to stick it in,“
said Prictese smiling slightly,
„but if you tried a little sin,
they’d let you off more lightly.“
2 thoughts on “A Philosophical Poem”
Sir, I notice with alarm that „Igelgrippe“ is trending in your „Wolke“. Us mature ladies in your burgeoning fan club are worried that we may have to stage an urgent intervention. Please can we have more stories about Atilla Hildman.
Your concern has been noted. I will get in touch with our legal department in order to deflect any rash action on your part. Our artist in residence has been strictly sanctioned to produce more content about fascist vegetarianism. Stay tuned, stay hip, don’t throw the babe on the garbage kip!