Ode to University

My face feels awfully heavy
And a heavy feeling is awfully unattractive
I hope that no one can see it
Or else they may become worried
That the candle in my head
Is melting my waxy visage
And that my skull
And eyes
And brain
Will somehow become visible
Which is quite revolting
Much more so than a simple sag
But even the most revolting thing has to start somewhere
It has to work its way up from the bottom of the revoltingness scale

I wonder why I have a slight sag
I think it may be the weight of idiocy
Maybe my face stores it
In times of need
(Like a squirrel)
For when I need a little laugh
“Cyclists are similar to the Klu Klux Klan” (for example)

If so
My mechanism is faulty
And instead it stores the unfunny things
Which only shit me
Now I remember my peers’ lack of motivation
As well omnipresent didacticism
Not to mention the uninformed opinions…
Why has no one done anything?
“Who has read the text?”
I raise my hand;
Nearly alone
“What do you think about this?”
I talk
Only to be rebuked by my ‘superiors’
My opinion torn down

Speak! You fuckers!

Someone speaks
Playing their one incomplete piece of knowledge
Acting the professional
“It’s all about…”
I know what it’s about!
I want to immerse myself in ‘it’
But you haul me back to the simple surface
Now I find it incredibly hard to purge such thoughts
They seem to be accumulating, as I have said,
In my face-sag (or sag-face)
Maybe they’ll eventually become so heavy
That I’ll have to fashion a cart upon which
To carry my head
To be honest,
I’d rather that my face melted off