I've learned
how to be a child of divorce

not through the quarrels
of mother and father
because mine still haunt each other.

But through my own
struggles of living
two separate lives.

One of a student
bound to study
being a socialite of aristocrats  
through my informality of university.

The other a family man
or a family boy
one that wants to soliloquy
and urge the importance
of unity with my brothers and sisters.

Spread between
two homes that don't quite
fill my needs or
meet my enthusiasms.

They are lost to me
equally lost to each other--
these two homes
used to be equal
but now they demand to be separate.

Teachers always say,
"Strive for excellence, not for perfection"
"Giving your best matters the most"
"Grades do not define you"
"Studying with the mentality of passing is nothing"

Why would they say those,
If they were the ones who push us to feel;
We are to perfect
We are to be highest
We are who our grades are
We are to study to pass

Studying for passing.
Passing without learning.

Fastidious noises, thoughtless behaviours,
Far from consciousness, lack of education
Or merely of attention, while hands pick
Food plunging in serving bowls to stuff
The mouth so plenty it barely closes.

Licking fingers, displaying stained teeth,
Chewing forcefully, yearning for oxygen
Between an uttered word and a mumbled
One. Fostering boorishness masquerading
As liberty, as if politeness is currently outdated.

Reducing the annoyed to an uptight unable
To enjoy freedom, where mannerism is a cell,
As I courteously turn the other way and refrain
From speaking my true mind, not to offend,
As I have been brought up to be considerate,

And swallow.

I read about death and violence

I proof read,
and top up
and eject
and print
and scan
and hand in
and sometimes I get full marks.

Mark.
Marks
Marks on the body.
Mark my words.
(Mark my work.)
Karl ******* Marx
The communist who launched a thousand memes.

My oh my.

//

The necropolitical is like a funnel
a filter,
a sieve.
Like baking,
only you didn't forget to put the oven on
and people are inside the oven and so are you.

It's not like with the toaster
when ur mum tells u to scrap the black crumbs into the drain.

It's not like you can unburn the burnt.
Oh and the skin grafts?
There's a waiting list for that.
The waiting list?
There's a form for you to get on that.
The forms?
You need to print them out.
The printer?
OUT OF ORDER.
Buy your own.
OUT OF STOCK.
Your bank balance?
FUNDS INSUFFICIENT.
Your bank?
Sorry you have reached us out of outside of our operating hours.

Outside
Outside of our
Outside of our operating
of our operating hours
operating hours
and hours
and hours
and hours
Thanks for holding! A representative will be with you shortly...

[Dave Dobbyn music continues playing through the phone]