A Further View (Mayo)
A Further View, by E. L. (Edward Leslie) Mayo (1904-1979)
There is no giggling in this classroom,
Whispering, shuffling of books and papers, I’m
Alone at my desk in front of empty chairs
Where I have been for almost thirty years,
Though there were times I thought a class attended.
Now, thinking back, I know better, having amended
The earlier, more charitable view:
I know it was myself I talked to.
Now this is very strange, for my discourse
I salted with little jokes (quite mild, of course,)
And simple illustrations (all concrete)
As though a wafted snore from a back seat
Had warned me people here with grades to get
Must stay awake for twenty minutes yet.
And so I have arrived by fits and starts
At a philosophy of style — of sorts.
It adds to this: But never, never
Say simply what you really feel; be clever:
Use indirection and make crystal clear
hat you don’t mean to people who aren’t there.