By Thomas Page
Have you ever been to the museum and covered your eye
To see the painting defy the laws of physics
From yards away in a gallery?
Eyes have not seen
Ear has not heard
Can I ever trust my senses to make sense of what I sense?
Does it even matter that I cannot know
The solution to Descartes’ quandary?
I often was skirting with sleep in philosophy class
Because this question
Like a whirlpool
Numbs those ensnared in the twister.
And I had to reproduce the answer to a dilemma’d question
That I know in my heart I did know
But not in the way the professor wanted.
I still don’t have a good idea of what it all means.
But does that even matter to the chin-scratching philosophers
Sitting in an office
Facing away from the window?
Take and read.
Take and read
But open the window
And take in the air