Yes, it was such a success, the programme,
The scholars listened all rapt, at what,
The linguist had to say about the tense phrase
And the negatives and neutralization with rehearsed ease,
While outside the glass window she stood, her face pressed against the
Cold glass through which she thought she could see what
She wanted to become tomorrow. Damn her, she doesn’t know
How we’ll try to snuff out her dreams and try our best to keep her OUT
Of this select collegium of renowned scholars,
And how we dread the idea of letting her pollute, and dilute
Our community’s academic standards
And how we’ll do anything to maintain our high moral ground.
Not for nothing that we learnt from our English masters the art,
Of pretending to give, while holding back,
Of seeming humane while being selfish and smug...
Ah, she shall never know how MUCH, with every bit of our being, we HATE her
And the fact that she vies to be here, that wretched, wretched good-for-nothing!
