Postgraduate Finesse

1 November 2015

An anonymous email to inform me of my absence on the shortlist

No interviews

When my statements are this unmagical

I think of the greengrocer watching clouds clear and reconvene

The rains lowering again

Over the unobtrusive roofwork of a Saturday

The decking patterns jazzing

And the unbelievable odour of sugar

As another plane goes over

The object’s dimmer

Which makes even fewer than last year

The ends these applications labour

I don’t remember it or my CV records an erosion so gradual

Or else the damage is a ready-made

Anyway I’m working on it

As an artificial ruin

All the inconsequent follies standing there in Times New Roman

I was halfway up a mountain on my way to a Greek monastery

When my alma mater called

An undergraduate asking for donations

From a campus of sensational brutalism

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