Professor and the Pedlar

By Dr. Paul Campanis

One day in May they left the planet.
The professor and her friend just died.
A racial killing.
You get to walk, maybe to talk, but inside?
They never asked us a question.
Killing for race is terrible effective.
Two fine souls, just gone.


They always made merciless fun of them.
Sport to pass the tenured time.
They like to be cruel,
like it a lot
over blood, black blood.
It never mattered
20 years ago
They kill when they get a chance.
A wave took her and the pedlar off the planet.
Where are they? Who knows?


Unknown in some bad war. Heroes. No good
came of it. None.
The professor spoke to everyone, regardless of rank
She laughed, taught, smiled, cared, dressed funny
supported, questioned. She published...... her life.
Said truth, lived fully. Got killed. She and the pedlar
Neither survived.


Some Commentary:

Paul please put this on the system for me. It is an attempt to come to
grips with the old days, which are the most important in my life in the
sense that I left my chosen type of work to do some other things that proved
far more interesting and valuable than my teaching career. They also
stimulated my art which is the most important thing in the world. I would
have been much less an an artist had I stayed in universities. I never
would have been the shepherd on the hill coming to the village once a year
to find out what was going on and then going back up to my lone status.