Thursday, July 23, 2015

Socratic Meethod


Xanthippi dumping night soil on hubby
Socrates as he thinks on these things.

Prerequisite to the Beginning of
                Liberal Art
My goal & aim in all classes is to under
cut & undermine &  confuse the issues,
subvert & tangle & twist what might
otherwise be measurable out comes,
taunt & tweak, mock & ridicule, spank
in manners of speaking so that all my
students won’t know whether they’re
coming or going,  selfish or unselfish
liberal or conservative, good or evil,
motivated or lazy: & down and down
we go, round and round we go, loving
the din that we spin, the spin that we’re  
in under that old  black magic called
liberal art.

Marriage of Heaven & Hell.

Presumptuously emulating my hero
Socrates and his toga & sandaled
cluster-bunch  wandering & wondering 
thru the groves of Academe years ago,
I quit grading and correcting years and
years ago. I quit assigning research
papers and insisted students write in
a conversational, even constellational,
non-linear non-thesis-driven voice
years and years and years ago.

My courses are an “easy” A for some.
Confusing for others.  Non rigorous
in the usual rigor-mortifying sense.
An early morning “mind-fuck” one
feminist described it last semester.
For some: a delightful waste of time.
For others: a waste of time—but still
and never the less: an appreciated
break from the books booking it and
dirty looks of them other courses.  

Trying to build an ice cream parlor in
hell without doing injustice to either
hot or cold—money for nothing and
tricks for free.

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