Careers advice at school,

such a waste of time,

trapped in an office

with someone you had never met before,

like being stuck in a cramped lift

with a murderer looking

at you and wondering which part

to attack first, always settling

on the heart and the head

before dismembering anything

resembling individual thought…

“What do you want to do when you leave school?”,

the question raised over glasses

and hoisted eyebrow, sarcasm elevated

at the ready and the answer of, “Nonsense,

you are good enough for the army boy,

passing his lips with precise cuts,

ready, aimed and fired salvo one,

“Get your haircut, make a man of you.”

Many I know just whimpered

and allowed the conversation to be over,

refusal to bow down and take it

always a passion of mine,

with fifteen year old spark

I replied no sir, nor shall I be interested

in a life underground, or clearing up

your mess, should I manage

to do the multitude of things

I want to try and achieve,

it will be on my terms,

my way

and I shall be the one to blame

if it all goes tits up.

Shoving with semi angry intent

the literature he had passed over,

surely a man with pockets lined

to get recruits…

I may have blown some parts of my life,

I never did get to be the first

Mechanic on the Moon, not surprising

when engines leave me cold,

at least I never had to suffer that again,

and already being told I could not take typing

as a school option, I felt

a little victory bleed in my heart

as I left the murderer perplexed

at my defence.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016