No Doubt

That high position in the mansion might

Have reinforced his image of his place

In history. Rimbaud conceived no slight

Position for himself among the race

Of poets. Maybe he surmised that he

Could lord it over his boss, who after

All was only a teacher. Previously

The boy had echoed against each rafter

In Great College Street ecstatic screams from

Paul, master poet of the age. So why

Not hope to dominate this uppish crumb

Bum gaffer? Arthur’s aims were high,

Beyond doubt. His arrogance persistent,

He’d forget he was just the assistant.