I really liked the Foucault reading, more than I expected actually, and reading Marlowe’s sonnet and then Donne and Raleigh’s response, I couldn’t help but think about how it often feels like certain poems “confess” more than others. Marlowe’s sonnet is troubled and ultimately picked apart by Donne and Raleigh. It seems to have more meaning when read side by side with their responses. Re-reading Marlowe’s sonnet after reading all three, it seemed flimsy and almost absurd. There seems to be a certain pleasure, if that’s the word, in seeing the “truth” of the original sonnet unveiled. As Foucault says, “we must ask whether, since the nineteenth century, the scientia sexualis– under the guise of its decent positivism- has not functioned, at least to a certain extent, as an ars erotica” (70).  Foucault’s article ultimately made me wonder how poetry is involved in “the production” of truth– this production perhaps requires a dialogue both between poems and within them.