----- Original Message -----
From: "cooee" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Tuesday, November 22, 2005 4:32 PM
Subject: snap 23 Nov 05
Assessment
Through the glass side wall
of the tall Union Hall
we see as we saunter
(pup and pensioner),
seated at desks writing,
this yearıs exam-system fodder,
the diploma-hunting platoons -
itıs yet another afternoon
in November spring weather -
exams still going on.
Days come back to me
pulsatingly,
Aucklandıs plane trees
decked out pale-greenly
outside the tall hall windows
as I and my generation
chewed our ballpoints
in the name of education.
Iıd come out certain
of another humiliation
unless it was English,
logic having defeated me,
or the theory of money,
or physical anthropology
(taught by a dentist
who walked up from the city,
with a grim-mouthed interest
in the teeth of prehistory).
My broad choice of subjects
and short concentration span
ensured me some fail-marks
and deferred graduation.
I bet none of this lot
are so inefficient.
A glance suggests that
their families are mostly
moneyed and Asian.
Commerce, today, no doubt.
Indeed, OEnglishı here,
which I taught so long
(a subject wisely avoided
by students from overseas),
mostly lets them write at home
and post stuff in to the Essay Box.
Pup and I have just assessed
a late one: Osorry, Max,
but life has been hard
since my mum stabbed my dadı.
Creative excuse?
Iıll assume
thatıs not my business
to assess,
but it is...disarming.
Her poems are formulaic,
her commentary under-informed.
Push her through, a pass this week,
in March sheıll graduate.
I shanıt pretend again
I can teach folk to write.
Come, pup, to the off-leash park.
Max Richards
Bundoora/BalwynNorth
8.15am
Wednesday 23 November 2005
Max, that's lovely. The counterpoint between the dog and the exam-takers
and their motives. The off-leash park - yes, where they all want to go and
won't get there. There's an early story by Thomas Mann, I think it's just
called The Story of a Dog, not one of his best-known but, I think, very
fine; walking his dog becomes a symbol of all sorts of human and social
relations. Poem reminded me of it.
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