She and Me

She’s brave, while I cower from fate,
She’s practical, I’m a pseudo-philosopher,
She plans, I dream,
She dances, I gesticulate
She guzzles her cocktails,
Greedy as a calf sucking milk,
I sip my scotch like the sun
Sucking the ocean dry,
She believes in the world,
I think it’s damned,
She effuses warmth, I chill the poles.
When we get into bed,
Her legs binding my butt,
We become the emptiness
That made the universe.


I have always been a great believer. I've flitted from one belief to another, from religion to atheism and from one philosophy to another, until I finally settled on J. Krishnamurti whose philosophy is that there is no philosophy. So now I firmly believe that there is nothing to believe. Now such a belief would, I believe, have been considered dangerous to society if the authorities had believed me to be of any consequence. No man of consequence they believe would waste his time on the pursuit of blogging!

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