The importance of clear prose in philosophy
I have no intention of speaking like a holy prophet, as an abstruse oracle, like an apocalyptic visionary or the she-ass of Balaam beholding the angel. Nor will I discourse as if I were exhilarated by Bacchus or swollen with wind by the sluttish Parnassian muses, nor like a Sibyl impreganted by Phoebus, nor like a prognostic Cassandra, nor as if Apollonian rapture had seized me form my toenails to the hair on my head, nor like the seer illuminated in the oracle or Delphic tripod, nor like wise Oedipus, probed in the riddles of the Sphinx, nor as a Solomon before the enigmas of the queen of Sheba, nor like Calchas, interpreter for the Olympian council, nor as a Merlin possessed, nor as one emerged from the cave of Trophonius. Instead I will speak in common, vulgar language, like a man who has had other things on his mind than to go about distilling the juice of his brain and cerebellum to the point of withering his pia mater and dura mater.
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Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead