Tuesday, 2 August 2016

poetry 2016 / 077


left on the door of my shared room
mostly from tutors
(delivered by students)
inviting me to visit them in office hours
to discuss my failing grades.
Astrophysics was not my forte, it seemed,
and while I was good at mathematics
following the method in a class of a hundred
left me flailing and despondent.
My first period of Depression
(with a capital D) left me retreating
into music and pulp science fiction;
beer and bridge in the evenings
and keeping up with the final year Agrics
at the Student Union mosh pit.
I failed the end of term exams, of course;
thrown out to flounder in the world
of advertising executives and graphic designers.
Fast cars and faster sex
until the revelation of art brought me home,
out of the mundane and into the the spirit
where Michaelangelo's angels hobnobbed
with the Gods of Greece and Vincent's night sky
provoked Klee's emotional response
and mine.

© Rachel Green 2016

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