Colleague Dividing, conquering, you won The Roman History Chair from where You now survive destroying staff, Intrigues to be vice-chancellor,   Wife’s nervous breakdown, suicide, And generally fulfil yourself In dirty works that haven’t found A publisher. Dubbed “Iron Man”,   “King Rat”, “Unflappable”, your dark Suits still don’t show wet hands wiped on Them furtively, though sweat begins To bead your upper lip from words   You use with less skill than before Against colleagues’ innuendoes. Out walking Sunday with a new Nit-picking departmental row   Instead of family picnicking, These symptoms give me pause as I’m About to…