“To talk of many things: but not of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax— of cabbages—and kings

Does a poem have to rhyme?
My first two lines do, just this time

Popper, Karl Popper
“Never heard of him!”
David Benson has

So had that kind lady
Sheet (must be dead now)
“Oh I was his secretary dear – many years ago now.”
One seat left in the whole cafe
Wellington, early seventies, a student cafe
And she beckoned me over
“Come and sit here, love.”

And what are you studying?
“Uhm, Philosophy.”
“O O  O Oh.
You must have heard of Popper
Karl Popper”
“Yep.”
“Oh yes, I was his secretary.”

Karl Popper was philosphicating
philosphicating?
Lecturing
Lecturing in Christchurch
A long time ago

I never finished the degree
I have time on my side
I did finish that coffee

Thames
Saturday morning market
Greg’s $4 table of tired books
There was this book
Popper

And there was David Benson
“Oh yes,” he said
#Karl Popper,
I started philosophy
Never finished the degree.”

Two contented failures
In the dizzying depths of philosophy
The book, ‘Popper’,
I’ll leave casually on our coffee table.
And visitors will say ,
“Ooooh, an intellectual!

And
If I ever meet Popper
I can say
“Oh, Hi! David Benson
David Benson in Thames
has read a bit of your book
A likeable guy!”

“I’ll look Popper in the eye.
Now look old chap
Why don’t you brighten your book up a bit
Add a few illustrations, pictures.
No, not your cute young things in scanty summer frocks

“How about
Uhm
How about a cow in a field
Give a pastoral uplift old chap.”

I’m sure David Benson would say the same
Well, maybe David would say,
“Just one Cutey, in a bikini milking a cow or something.
.Anyway,think about it buddy”
And Karl Popper would dawdle off
Thniking about it.

One Day
David Benson will publish his book of poems
and I’ll say
“Now look old chap
Why don’t you brighten your book up a bit
Add a few illustrations, pictures,

Maybe of me
sitting on a three legged stool
milking a cow!”
And

Being a model,
Published in a book
I could make a few dollars

A a a a h
I’m not that comfortable being that close to a cow
They’re bloody big animals you know

Look
A picture of me
Holding a carton of milk
It would be a real hit!

Well, that’s me poem, no more cow
I’ll make the damn thing – rhyme somehow


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