Second Edit: Professor of Poetics

[vagabond]

Professor of Poetics

he is just a memory now-
part of a cruel dream
forever far
yet always close

he would lecture
about the clumsiness 
of clichés:                                 i think metaphor would fit better than cliché
“Grey leaden sky
is meaningless,” he would say

he would talk
of how poems were like candy
so sweet sounding                   
in our mouths                             interisting here would be what the subject thinks about this piece of poetics education.. otherwise i don´t know what that verse does in the poem.

he would also scare away
young poets
by dissecting their lines
like a mad surgeon
his plain pencil
a scalpel
most of his surgeries
unwanted             yes, but when you go to school you kind of expect to write tests and have the flaws "dissected".

he never made steel
like my father
he never waited a table
like my mother
but he influenced me                  that´s not a contradiction, so the "but" does not fit.

he taught me
and prolonged my dream of poetics:     can one really dream of poetics? sounds so sterile..
a cruel dream
forever far
yet always close               maybe some description for the subject´s motivation and the source of that dream would make the message clear.

i think you have more to say than what is expressed in the poem so far.