Our Old Friend Dualism

All hail to him, the Protean! A tough old chap is he:
Spinoza and the Monists cannot make him cease to be.
We pound him with our " Truth, Sir, please!" and quite appear to still him:
He laughs; holds Bergson up, and James; and swears we cannot kill him.
We argue them pragmatic cheats. " Aye," says he. " They're deceiving:
But I must live; for flamens plead I am all that's worth believing!"
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.