A Season In Edge Hill (Repost)
A SEASON IN EDGE HILL
Self-important piddling patchwork college,
peddling half-regurgitated rote knowledge;
chiselling chaste gems into brute ashlar;
live surging forest stripped for lumber cash.
All of a piece: “Sit down, don’t rock the boat”.
Sing up: “Graded brains keep us in power”.
You know the drill. “Do keep up at the back!”
“Hands up if you know the answer.” “Miss!” “Sir!”
Meaninglesswhile in the college canteen
(“Starved a lot, blah, blah”; cabbage days again)
running dogs and other wage slaves drivel,
drone, mimic windmills uncomprehending,
grinning at their own expense, face polished
shiny, shiny, aloof, above all that,
admiring Handsome in smooth-tongued mirrors,
accolading lucky fortunate one.
What can I say? A dickens of a place.
Lancashire’s tundra; bleak without the house.
Overgenerous to call if half-life
One man arrived and only stayed for tea …
A page of personal history.