In this schoolroom which is brightly lit
marvels are exhibited to spur me on
to learn of chances others took
when they left their dingy digs for fame.
Possibilities open out for me -
cluttered office hours, dirty workshop days,
or watching wealth absorbed by taxes,
contemplating evasion
and its culpability.
Maybe I will chart and classify
the trials of an artist
or study beauty for a living,
or even softly soothe old flesh,
refreshing nostrils with aromas,
or listen wisely for hours and a fee.
Voyaging visitors, not gentle guests
wear thin the carpet in the stately home
while the noble lord woos for dollars,
no longer fearing for his life,
just his pension and possessions.
Always we must prove ourselves
make money and be skilful.
Once Newton stood upon the shoulders of his giants;
now some stand on the beaten backs of others,
grossing profits from their losses,
and there is no salary for failures.
Years ago we could relax
and leave a random apple on the tree
to rot or fall;
now it seems it must be gathered,
fermented and decanted.
