Inner North London, top floor flat
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All white walls, white carpet, white cat,
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Rice Paper partitions,
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Modern art and ambition
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The host¡¯s a physician,
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Bright bloke, has his own practice
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His girlfriend¡¯s an actress
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An old mate of ours from home
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And they¡¯re always great fun.
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So to dinner we¡¯ve come.
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The 5th guest is an unknown,
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The hosts have just thrown us together for a favor
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'cause this girl¡¯s just arrived from Australia
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And she's moved to North London
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And she¡¯s the sister of someone
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Or has some connection.
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As we make introductions
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I¡¯m struck by her beauty
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She¡¯s irrefutably fair
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With dark eyes and dark hair
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But as she sits
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I admit I¡¯m a little bit wary
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because I notice the tip of the wing of a fairy
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Tattooed on that popular area
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Just above the derriere
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And when she says ¡°I¡¯m Sagittarien¡±
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I confess a pigeonhole starts to form
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And is immediately filled with pigeon
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When she says her name is Storm.
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Conversation is initially bright and light hearted
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But it¡¯s not long before Storm gets started:
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¡°You can¡¯t know anything,
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Knowledge is merely opinion¡±
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She opines, over her Cabernet Sauvignon
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Vis a vis
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Some unhippily
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Empirical comment made by me
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¡°Not a good start¡± I think
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We¡¯re only on pre-dinner drinks
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And across the room, my wife
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Widens her eyes
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Silently begs me: Be Nice!
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A matrimonial warning
|
Not worth ignoring
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So I resist the urge to ask Storm
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Whether knowledge is so loose-weave
|
Of a morning
|
When deciding whether to leave
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Her apartment by the front door
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Or a window on her second floor.
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The food is delicious and Storm,
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Whilst avoiding all meat
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Happily sits and eats
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As the good doctor, slightly pissedly
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Holds court on some anachronistic aspect of medical history
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When Storm suddenly insists
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¡°But the human body is a mystery!
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Science just falls in a hole
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When it tries to explain the the nature of the soul.¡±
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My hostess throws me a glance
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She, like my wife, knows there¡¯s a chance
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I¡¯ll be off on one of my rare, but fun, rants
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But I shan't. My lips are sealed.
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I just want to enjoy the meal
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And although Storm is starting to get my goat
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I have no intention of rocking the boat,
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Although it¡¯s becoming a bit of a wrestle
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Because -- like her meteorological namesake -
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Storm has no such concerns for our vessel.
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¡°Pharmaceutical companies are the enemy
|
They promote drug dependency
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At the cost of the natural remedies
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That are all our bodies need
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They are immoral and driven by greed.
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Why take drugs
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When herbs can solve it?
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Why use chemicals
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When homeopathic solvents
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Can resolve it?
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It¡¯s time we all return to live
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With natural medical alternatives.¡±
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And try as I like,
|
A small crack appears
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In my diplomacy-dike.
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¡°By definition¡±, I begin
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¡°Alternative Medicine¡±, I continue
|
¡°Has either not been proved to work,
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Or been proved not to work.
|
Do you know what they call ¡°alternative medicine¡±
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That¡¯s been proved to work?
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Medicine.¡±
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¡°So you don¡¯t believe
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In ANY Natural remedies?¡±
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¡°On the contrary, Storm.
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Actually, before we came to tea,
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I took a remedy
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Derived from the bark of a willow tree
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A painkiller that¡¯s virtually side-effect free
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It¡¯s got a weird name,
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Darling, what was it again?
|
Masprin?
|
Basprin?
|
Oh, yes. Asprin!
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Which I paid about a buck for
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Down at the local drugstore.
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The debate briefly abates
|
As our hosts collects plates
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but as they return with desserts
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Storm pertly asserts,
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¡°Shakespeare said it first:
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There are more things in heaven and earth
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Than exist in your philosophy¡¦
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Science is just how we¡¯re trained to look at reality,
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It doesn't explain love or spirituality.
|
How does science explain psychics?
|
Auras; the afterlife; the power of prayer?¡±
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I¡¯m becoming aware
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That I¡¯m staring,
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I¡¯m like a rabbit suddenly trapped
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| In the blinding headlights of vacuous |
