the man vs. post-structuralism

This post originally appeared on the now defunct blog, Team Sakib.

dedicated to mohamed haroun

he sits in quiet
waiting to pounce
he lurks around me
privacy denounced
he is the system
and beneath the system
his power and anger boils
his greed much greater than cotton or gold or oil

he looks to steal the light out of souls
rip open your heart like the temple of doom
the ghost colored figure emotions of anguish, guilt, sorrow and pride
horrors not even capable of pharoan before his tomb

i sit alone across from his lair
he sits beside me
wind blowing his maine of golden hair
we ponder why he does it
and why i must resist
and why he must continue
why wont he cease and desist
but he is in his place, his role
and i am in mine
and we sit on these steps
sun dying with time

and we look to our left
we look to kent
and in the 5th floor window
we see the Indian Civ TA from tashkent
and in the window below his
we see our buddy Foucault
Michael greets us
he begins with, "Hello"

F-man is quite big here
Eddy made him so
He subverts my companion
who has become a bit slow
but often they seem chummy
Michael and the Man
as if ambiguity and civil rights
go hand-in-hand
but I look to wise Foucault
for the answers that lay beneath
why the man and I sit here in quiet
with our passions, ambitions and future underneath

sakib, you know the drill
you and he are in constructed roles
and if the construct were different
you would both switch souls
with his soul the rebel
and yours the oppressor
with both of you swapped
and no one the better

i say you frenchie this nihilism is mad whack,
your theories and methods are better than that

how would you know sakib?
did you read my book?

well frog, i listened in class
and my engineering degree is proof
reading is a pain in the ass
but semantics aside, isn't it you
who says there's more to me than construction
that my soul holds something true

and with those words
kent falls dark
the TA falls asleep
and the man turns out to be a farse
i sit there now alone
everything deconstructed
alone with my soul
no man, no ideology, no steps, no oppression
just me

i am all i have
my only evidence is me
and all i can think of is
"There is no God but Thee"