Philosophy of Mind

The old mind body problem with its grim chimneys
And tongue-and-groove solutions.
I was trying to claim my mind as a dependent,
But my lawyer Kant said you can’t.
The entire neighborhood looks as though
It’s been brushed in soot.
The auditor in his economy car
Crashes through the butts and wrappers
And warms up his adding machine in my kitchen

With its cuckoo clock bird who’s scared to come out,
My old maid on her knees scrubbing the grout.
She looks up and puts a finger to her painted lips.
The world’s entire fortune will be expropriated.

The body of this table, with its many legs
And leaves, its veins and creaks, is reassuring as it absorbs
My accountant’s love note with its X/O salutation.
I’ve half a mind to burn it piece-by-piece.
Meanwhile, beggars have gathered on the sidewalk
To play odds with loaded dice.
Cop cars parked in a the shape of a cog,
The fat mayor in the center who wants crime stopped
So he can levy his dissertation on the blues.