Office Visit
This poem dates back to 1985, when I was a student at UCSB, taking a class outside my major—The History of Archaeology—an anthropology course taught by Professor Brian Fagan. It turned out to be one of the most memorable classes I took. We stayed in touch, and a few years later I worked with him to design some of his books for Caractacus Publishing. Brian even graciously contributed an article about acorns to Edible Santa Barbara. He was one of those rare people who touch your life in a profound way.
Office Visit
He pounds away furiously at the computer
producing yesterday’s work
and looks up to say “good evening”
though it’s not yet noon.
It’s the faces he’s contemplating
and the people he’s writing
so many books on the shelf.
He points out the window
to “that place” and says “they”
don’t know what’s going on
in the fun palace
of Bureaucracy Hall.
Monday, Wednesday, Friday
class in an office
not Knitting 101
shattering constructs
teaching to people not faceless.
He mocks the ridiculous
and flaunts his impatience
stirring and exuberant
then a silent trace of sadness
startling yet knowing.
Never constructing his own myth
just rebuilding.
Reading Odyssey rhythmic passages
in the original Greek
moving and touching to tears
he digresses.
–Krista Harris