Each Cruel Bite

Arthur and Kant have ordered a third glass of local cider, and a third toastie.

This is better than counting dead fish on a beach, says Kant.

Yes it is, says Arthur.

But I feel somewhat guilty, says Kant.

No need to, says Arthur. Sweezus is coming to get us.

That's good, says Kant. 

I told him not to hurry, says Arthur.

Did you? And what was his reaction? asks Kant.

He said to ask you some questions, says Arthur. For the interview you and he are meant to be doing.

Fire away then, says Kant.

I'm not a philosopher, says Arthur.

I know. I believe you're a poet. says Kant. You may ask me questions about the nature of beauty.

Beauty isn't my thing, says Arthur. My poetry grows out of derangement. 

It could still result in something of beauty, says Kant. 

Arthur picks up his toastie and waves it in front of Kant.

Cheese extends in rubber sinews with each cruel bite, says Arthur. 

I'll eat it, if you don't like it, says Kant.

No, I like it, says Arthur. 

He takes a big bite. 

You have cheese on your chin, says Kant.

Arthur rolls the cheese into a ball with his finger, and eats it.

Perhaps you could ask me about my ideas on aesthetics, says Kant.

Just give me the main one, says Arthur.

Our basis of judgement forms a dichotomy, says Kant. On the one hand.....

Arthur thinks this is cheating.

Luckily, Sweezus arrives at this moment.

Hey! says Sweezus. You guys are in the best place. What are you drinking?

Cider, says Kant. And I was explaining...

Cool, says Sweezus. I'll get myself one. And those toasties look great.

Arthur has been giving me a lesson in poetry, says Kant. He came up with a line about the toastie. It was evocative, but lacked beauty, and from there we proceeded to my ideas on aesthetics.

Sweezus looks at Arthur.

Good one bro. You been writing it down?