The Death of Philosophy

(pleased to post this poem by my pal, the philosophical, and whimsical, David Belmont)

when descartes
was 60 years old
he went to stockholm
at the request
of queen kristina 

the curious monarch
had room
for philosophy
only at 4 am

in her unheated library
in the dead of winter

so rene 
eschewed his habit
of mornings in bed
and strode thru the snow
in his pointy shoes
curly wig and
embroidered gloves

after several weeks
he became too cold 
to think
and therefore ceased
to exist

4 thoughts on “The Death of Philosophy

  1. How deliciously ridiculous, hilarious, tragic. In the time of post Trump, pre Biden-seemingly never ending Covid, and with vague and distant possibilities of revolution, I beseech my philosophizing poet comrades-stay warm, dry and don’t cease…


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