Poetry at Sangam




The Structuralist has returned to sit in the empty chair.
The other empty chair is reserved, for the Semiotician.
The New Critic is unearthing scripture in faraway Algiers.
The New Historicist walks by the shelf on Hayden White.
The Marxist Critic starts a conversation with the beggar.
The beggar bemoans all occupations, and the moneyed.
The Postcolonial Theorist drinks from the baptismal font.
As if to say let’s drink to this, the washing clean of things.
The Feminist Critic is talking about Virginia Woolf.
In relation to Cixous and Irigaray, each id at a time.
The Psychoanalytic Critic notes the babble, all wads of it.
The Ecocritic has a picnic by the lake, near the tree line.
The Queer Scholar is wearing angel wings and pink pumps.
As if to say this is the elevation, this is an evolved stage.
Of condition, of desire and need to share every anecdote.
Even if the narrative has become a kind of shuffling.
A kind of circumvention, a steady equivocation to elude.
The Russian Formalist has defamiliarized every tenet.
Which theorist has written a love note to all authors?