BACK TO

I was back to
the futured
to my
old university

one of those ribald
dreams where
the basic narrative comes
courtesy of
capitalist content creator

and there I was
both ancient alumnus
and yet feeling
the total freshman

all my higher degrees
revoked
on grounds of
relevancy

struggling in the climate
contrasts to make
my way both
upstream
and downstream

intellectually frigid, frozen
broken
desperate to
if not remake
at least
reshape
the wheel

whilst the Sun scorching brains
leering contemptuously
through
the stratosphere

protoype for every
      god Emperor, every golden
King
    and, yes, indeed
I am afraid to add, every
trivial
    trivial Dean

as I made my way through
the panoply of departments
renamed
where not structured entirety

every theory
so local, limited, narrow
yet
same same-same

not of the intellect
but of ideology

servile, appeasing, without
a mind
to contemplate thought
of difference, thought
of resistance

triumph of appearance
and death of shame

back futured, back dated
limbo lateral
shifted
what else should I say?

Published by Damian Garside