What can I tell you that you do not know
Of the life after death?
A the first two lines of a poem by Ted Hughes after his wife Sylvia Plath committed suicide.
I am hopeless at this degree but I can’t imagine doing anything at university without numbers, and everything that is anywhere near as mathematical as well maths bores me. But what I do now doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, it’s just a few bad marks in the midst of solid progress. I just know I’m good at other things and my potential lies elsewhere. I can’t afford to change paths now, what would I do?
Fair, you don’t know whether an afterlife exists, but you don’t know what to do when you graduate and this life dies and another begins.
We were comforted by wolves.
Under that February moon and the moon of March
The Zoo had come close.
And in spite of the city
Wolves consoled us. Two or three times each night
For minutes on end
They sang. They had found where we lay….
I take Zoo to alliterate exams, and wolves to be chocolate. The moons between February and March to be spring and the spite of the city to be campus.
I’m not a celebrity, but get me out of here!