Pay
Oh dear Vice-Chancellor
Struggling for fees
Who says you can’t sell de-
Grees if you please –
Why hunker down with a mere quarter-mill?
Everyone else has their hands in the till.
Why such a long face,
Mouth very sour?
Is it the wrong place,
An ivory tower?
Thinking of others, and what they’ll be creaming
When working where spires are fitfully dreaming?
God save your mission
To bolster the needy –
It’s only tradition
That you should be greedy –
Hike up your pay, it’s certainly best to,
And besides, you can argue it’s just what the rest do.
Bankers and brokers
With powder-white necks
Compare with the jokers
They call Chief Execs:
Once they’ve established which ladder, what rung,
They’ll get, and do join them, a whopping great bung.
Click here for a link to the magazine Light, where Bill is the featured poet
