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A Poem In Place Of A Lecture

<i>Or Vice-Versa</i>

This morning, friends, the blackboard will be black
Behind my skull: your eyelids will be slack,
And I could wearily cajole from you, or you,
Slow answers to dull questions; or grow annoyed
Earnestly deploying on the black void
Lyra’s measured stars. But I must learn anew
To cope with darkness: these voids won’t do
As palps where I could plot the dusty lore,

The diagrams, the arty emblems you ignore,
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7/27/2021 2:34:58 AM # 1.0.0.664