Logic of Real Arguments

By way of explanation, I should note that this poem is very old to me--it was written on a camping trip in 1995, after finishing a dreadfully dry philosophy course with a textbook entitled "The Logic of Real Arguments." And then, at a campground in upstate New York, I watched a drunken couple argue. Needless to say, they didn't use the techniques outlined in the book.

The Logic of Real Arguments

A puts a hand out like a crossing guard--he wants it all to stop.

B says “You never talk--who are these ghosts that haunt your tongue?”

The books are closed on this game; we are taking no more bets

Good blood has incurred bad debts before this.

I had a textbook, read it cover to cover.

I was so prepared--I knew the rules--

I thought--and I was wrong--

That I knew you.

B has thought this all through--each conclusion follows premise

Like a wind-up toy.  A can only shout, but that will do.

Throw out your guidebook—it’s the same in every language,

Kind words strangled in your throat before these.

I had a textbook, told me

“Cut through words to structures,

Dispel needless emotions,

Think clearly now.”  But...

I shout and you crumple.          

I learn to fight dirty and win.

My record speaks for itself,

It has learned to shout for itself.