Poem: Socrates

Ask the prickling questions, for the truth
always loves a martyr. We agree
upon the virtues, don’t we? That good

is the whole good, and evil not? That mind
is the highest good of all, closer to
god. What do you mean you don’t agree?

Why do you ask me to define evil
and good — are they not self-evident
written on the soul? For of the truth

I am arbiter. Each question I fling
has that fact subsumed in the ink! Look now
to the highest good. Aren’t I there?