Professor Luke —
What has he learned
In all his rephrasing,
invincible to words

He might be an expert,
or might be a narcissist,
or even a Luke-of-all-trades
But he doesn’t care

Detached so he can say anything
He’s zoning at any speed
He’s striking gold all over this place,
this place is a gold mine

Speaking in third-person,
his first-person accounts
sound better that way
he thinks, and lights a cigarette

Three more years
until he’s forced to quit
Three left for him to cherish
he thinks and blows a cloud

Listen, he’s in a stream
Unconnected so do as you wish
‘til heart’s content or ‘till it aches
he’s gone too fast, he fears neither

In his element, impervious to scene
Autonomy king, privileged tourist
The platitude of your latitude
he hasn’t this need

Laugh of denial
doomfully, organically biassed,
He roars at his jokes
because he’s a riot