The Vice Chancellor is leaving!
And the mourners go about the streets,
throwing their mortar boards in the air
and waving their gowns
like bullfighters’ capes.
In the Vivisection Laboratory,
the faintest of grey lights
slants through the bars of cages
where animals wait
to be scientifically tortured
for the benefit of mankind,
to justify the ways of Man to God.
The Vice Chancellor is leaving.
Not because he is the Chancellor for Vice
but because his contract is running out.
As you sow
so are you reaped.