The Irish poet enters the hall late
as usual   no one is angry
several students have Yeats collections
on their laps   one student
waves a Patrick Kavanagh at him
he looks happy he says   ah

there are three teachers at the podium
they have been peering into
a computer full of poems which will be
flashed onto a screen   the poems
are by Shelley    Yeats   Bishop

they are serious teachers    these poems
are the early abysmal drafts
of great poets    the students are
encouraged    they have many abysmal
drafts themselves    they have usually
stopped at    oh    their second or
third draft     what if their longing
for their own true invention
of language is not strong enough     what
if they are satisfied too soon    there is
a long communal sigh at the screen full
of delicate poetic error     the Irish poet
smacks his head and sighs his own sigh
the students laugh and applaud