Faculty 101

1
They size each other up,
the young Turks with their papers
& the old fogeys
on the look-out for slingers
around the block.
They start off with academese
brandished like new toys
& instant talisman
for aging mandarins
in search of minted words
they habitually invent
like gems uncut that glitter back.
The young gurus clap,
as though celebrating a fine acquital
of their act.
The old just sigh,
surveying the monsters of sordid crimes
they have let loose
among their kind.

2
They watch themselves
in their mirror’s-eyes
& find how fast time is.
& how slow things are.
“Dust & crabs. Dust & crabs.”
Old Nick kept telling us.

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