Poetry by P.C Vandall

PLATO AND THE PEPSI CHALLENGE Plato frowns up at me from the pages of a dusty old textbook I’m reading. He looks the way one might think, chiselled nose, sculpted brows, marble eyes and no pupils. True to form, he scowls when I crack open a Pepsi. My soda hisses and snakes through the dialogue into the garden of Athens where I find Plato holding a can of Coke like an Olympic torch while proclaiming nothing beats the real thing. I find it difficult to swallow  what fizzles up and f...

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