Inversion: A Foucauldian Flavored Poem by Michael T. Smith


Power when held by he who speaks, he who listens
May make weep
For freighted with the ego’s bane
Along, it slops
To fortune, fame —

And sop it will
From out a’ mouthpiece until
Ill it greets,
Growing itself wide until
Tis physically meet.

But power, like an eye wandering free
May invert such barren subtitles
One seeks,
And once held, by those on top
Those on the bottom may provide the stop

For power when held by he who speaks,
He who listens
May someday reap.
And he who held it once so tight
Mayhap find himself in nightly plight

So if by gross and simple confines,
These my amends I make,
Let the mind not feel hate,
Instead let these words
Your hunger satiate.

©2020 Michael T. Smith


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Michael T. Smith is an Assistant Professor of English who teaches both writing and film courses. He has published over 150 pieces (poetry and prose) in over 80 different journals. He loves to travel.


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