Death Comes as a Master from Academia, by Colin James

I am not a silent poet

                              Surprisingly my nemesis
                              was substantially larger than me
                              and quite a bit younger.
                              I managed to distract him
                              with an ambiguous question.
                              Far be it me to throttle someone
                              when their back is turned.
                              I hit him straight on violently.
                              To divert blame I had designed a lettered
                              sweater always open at the neck,
                              compensating for a particularly thorough
                              good hiding at someone else’s convenience.

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