the art of the intellect
has lost the beauty of discovery
oldness is newness is rightness is whiteness
passion is out of fashion
replaced by a uniform of fascion
one foot in and one foot out
I try to bring modernity to the learned
under the supervision of teachers, rather preachers
of an old way of life that never was
except in their dreams
where art is high and bright
given pale pallor
intellect is select
I am lucky here only fearing
a back track

people like me are linguists
mixing the ancient tongues with the new
so the future understands the past
instead of the past and the past and the past
the language of intellect is barred
marred now by the anti-elite
the young who rejoice in being young
busy producing anew as buzzing bees
without pale pollen, they add color to the pot
will white wrinkled hands dip their fingers in to taste
or leave it another thousand years
to be found in obscurity?


©Abigail Siegel, 2019

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MA in Classics: Latin poetry as well as myth and folklore. Writes mostly poetry and book reviews. Part-time Latin tutor:

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