A poem

I’m sorry. It’s time to inflict my “poetry” on all of you again. I haven’t finished writing my post about my weekend in Spain, but I will soon. I came out of a lovely meeting with my supervisor this afternoon, and sat down and accidentally wrote this poem. Sorry.

On the relationship between the PhD supervisor and her or his student


This partially-sighted god straddles my world

All-seeing, all-knowing but not

Saturating my days with judgements he doesn’t know he’s making

Destroying my nights unconsciously

And killing me alternately with kindness and impatience.


I usually profess my love by avoidance

But sometimes hesitantly approach this cracked oracle

Who sits amid lofty papers behind an ugly green door from 1968

And await his pronouncement

Like a pimply suitor at the princess’s court.


And like the carefree princess, this workaday sage does not know

That a word from him can damn me or save me

Can stop my world spinning or can cause it to whirl

Can set my heart a-flutter, can fill my head with noise, can drain me of hope.


Songs teach you about romantic love, and sexual love and family love,

Love of country, love of knowledge, even love of goddamn cycling

But no one tells you of those three or four or five years in your life when love of supervisor trumps all these and fades them all to temporary black.

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