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