I have crept through the work of Adorno
And thought that he must have been a retard.
There sure isn’t the shine of Pontormo.
Theodor’s sure better than Lyotard.
I would rather be watching a porno,
Preoccupied with something else that’s hard.

Sure their prose is worthless and far too hard,
But I can’t help but like poor Adorno.
Not sure why—I wish he’d made a porno.
He didn’t like pop culture—that’d’ve been retarded.
Though I don’t think this’d stand for Lyotard—
He liked space ships and maybe Pontormo.

But who talks today about Pontormo?
Hauser liked Mannerists. They’re not too hard.
He wasn’t the best Marxist, Adorno,
Better than that conservative, Lyotard.
Can’t you see neocons watching retards
Do unspeakable things in weird pornos?

I might write an essay on the aesthetics of porn,
And maybe an essay on Pontormo.
No jargon! I don’t want to be a ‘tard.
Criticism these days is so like “hard
[B]ound brains.” Just think of that freak, Lyotard,
Not to mention those things of Adorno.

But things could be much worse than Adorno.
At least it’s not Spivak in a porno,
Or a Herzog film about Lyotard.
Let’s read Hickey’s essay on Pontormo;
It’s fun, beautiful, and not all that hard.
I think lit crit might just make you a ‘tard.

Theory’s OK, but it gets retarded.
I’m sick of those critics like Adorno.
There’s no problem with ideas that are hard—
Think of the lines in Plato or in pornos,
Or even that Capella of Pontormo’s,
Not the PoMo Condition of Lyotard.

It’d be hard teaching criticism to retards.
But what I’d give for Adorno or Lyotard’s
Porno. Or for them to be moved by Pontormo.