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The Whore Of Mensa (with apologies to Woody Allen)
I had a sudden passion
For philosophical debate
I'd talked often 'bout the football
But not dialectics with my mates
I often felt entrapped inside
Plato's famous cave
With shadows black upon the walls
My intellect enslaved
I craved for stimulation
My mind was going to waste
I Googled and found Bhuddism
But Kant and Hegel's more my taste
Then one day in Yellow Pages
Just browsing through 'cos i was bored
Something caught my interest
So i tried to find out more
There were educated women
Most with PhD's
You could engage with for an hour
And discuss philosophies
Trembling, i dialled the number
I was feeling quite depressed
Was this for real i asked myself
Or just a front for sex?
'Hello' she said so sultry
My hair stood all end
'Are you looking for deep insights
Or a more demanding blend
Of argument and discourse
Of conflict and debate
For the softer stuff we charge less
And the rest a higher rate
I can tell you i was nervous
My fantasies had come to life
I opted first for ethics
Quite careful of the price
She was really quite amazing
Not once did she hold back
She gave me such a hard time
And kept my arguments on track
'I'll call again quite shortly'
I whispered breathlessly
Next time i think i'd like to try
Epistemology
I was hooked then - I'll admit it
I wanted something really hard
But over time it damaged
All my credit cards
I confess all this now freely
I was addicted to her mind
She was the Whore of Mensa
But of a quite Platonic kind.
poem
by
David Keig
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