Toast
(from “Fragments of An Irreverent History”)
399 BCE, Athens
I’ve always tried to dodge that bloody satyr,
who’d buttonhole his victims on the street,
keep them for hours and hours of pointless chatter:
my strategy: admit a quick defeat.
He had an arsenal of cunning ploys,
talked up his silly tricks, like “dialectic,”
which, though it helped him lure some pretty boys,
left Euthyphro and Lysis apoplectic.
Now most have dropped him like a hot potato,
they recognize which side their bread is buttered—
except that creepy sycophant, young Plato,
with shorthand transcripts of each word he’s uttered.
His fanboys argue that he was the GOAT,
the guy who taught humanity to think.
The prosecution, though, will have my vote—
for all his sins, I’ll stand him one last drink.