Far flung knowledge
After the pub, we eat curry and watch
oddly dressed figures from an exotic academe.
Enrobed in their Levis and 70’s wild hair
they dance behind the dust on the TV screen.
We see the thoughts of Euler and Gauss,
appear as lists of poker faced glyphs
and slowly digest long pondered lemmas
delivered to us via the spells of UHF.
Many years later, the cathode has cooled.
Some memories remain, but mostly they’re gone.
The magical echoes of those broadcast thoughts
have faded like the snap of an old popadom.
VHS has departed, as have the folks with wild hair.
But with the theorems they taught, their students propound
the communication protocols
that now send us net bound.
We no longer embrace in the rooms where we met
and Google is now god in our church of the Web.
But teachers still teach and poets still speak
though sadly I’m now too old for curry before bed.