At the Straussian Picnic

Does one don white gloves and boater

A mask, a whip

A boa floater?

What, I wonder, does one wear

When invited to appear

Among the denizens of Athens

(Well, Athens as they’d like to see it,

Chicagified and monotheist)?

They’re chowing down on Hebrew Nationals

Someone asks: Is Bellow rational?

Should Pericles have lowered taxes?

Was Hobbes the Father of the Axis?

(Will Nietzsche please get off our backses?)

Did Montesquieu invent our Nation?

Can Hegel save his reputation?

Is man-boy love the wrong persuasion?

Oh, thanatos and thanatopsie

Will I break bread with Seth Cropsey?

Will Baumann and McClay be there?

Will Francis Fukuyama share

His thoughts about Robespierre?

Will I learn at last to grasp

The meaning of Pythagoras?
Will I understand the Good

And tease out just where Plato stood

On sophistry and eidoshood?

Mais non, helas

I’ve not been asked.

Nor will I be.

It’s purdah-land you see for me.

Phenomenologically

Pariahville’s my destiny.

I guess I’ll never get to Know

What I don’t Know.

Ah, well, to hell,

No, to Hellas,

With that bloody show.