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Academic Dust
Contributed by
catapult57
on
Saturday, 6th February 2010 @ 09:51:03 PM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
In the bowels of the library’s
basement floor, behind three
fragile walls of graying
periodicals, I picked at the
frayed sleeve of a blue
oxford shirt and read Dickens’
“Bleak House” until three a.m.,
for a Brit Lit test the next day.
Some called it cramming, I
counted it as preparation.
In the realms of pre-day, I
imagined myself a ragged son
of the moldering aristocracy,
clutching at the manners and morals
of a culture whose time had
passed. I was too cowardly to
rebel against it, and not clever
enough to master its trick-or-treat
maneuvers.
Finally finished, in
that most abjectly solitary time
of night, weary four-thirty,
I gathered my books and notes
and walked among the
collection of my culture’s craft:
those words of explanation, defined
and put into rigorous compartments—
categorized experiences of our mutual entropy.
I slid my shoe through this
academic dust and left to make my way
to my room, to fall, so softly,
into sleep.
Copyright ©
catapult57
... [
2010-02-06 21:51:03] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Academic Dust
(User Rating: 1 ) by Spike on
Sunday, 7th February 2010 @ 04:07:10 AM AEST (User
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a Message)
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What an engaging narrative; beautifully worded and so emotive. An instant favourite.
Spike |
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