FUKOW

more new found poetry. this time with pseudo-sonnet beat lit theory goodness.

Confused, I dig your
incomprehensible
archeologies,
foundering in Marx and leather
masochism.
You faded French archetype
over-quoted footnote Foucault!
But still I rocksteady anonymous
in your sign language.
Bioethics and bass guitar
slipping silent "els"
right past my tongue
leaving me wanting
more
after
that
staccato op-en-ing
act.

I liked the legend better.
Gibberish over tired theory
(though ground-breaking at your time)
slowly abused and worn out.
Give me your absurd thanatos
over your all-too-human tragedy.

I liked you when we thought AIDS was a trick,
not as the final product of postmodern bioethic.