There was a time in the Hill when the sun shone, the birds chirped, and the preachers preached,
A paper watches me from its
5 p.m. due date
Yet I am ignorant of the future,
And shall remain thus.
The UL calls with a stern look from under its
Godawful ugly awning,
But my heart leans in to Polk Place.
Its airy arms embracing my ventricular chambers
Caressing my aorta.
That cardiac nymph targets
Gary, a wondrous sight
Old and furious,
But a beautiful tempest, temptress nonetheless
He looks at me and begins to scream.
If I am to go to Hell for what he says,
Why write this paper?
If I will soon be dead.
You distract me.
With your old man beard and your scraggly looking teeth.
I sit down in the quad.
The grass is itchy.
AM I ALLERGIC?
It does not matter.
Two bros wearing tanks surround me.
They’re playing frisbee.
The cylindrical disk flies over me,
And one of the bros jumps over my head
to catch it.
“Nice catch man,”
the other bro exclaims,
Neither bro apologizes.
Lessons are always to be learned.
The air is hazy, perhaps with
Summer love, passions recognized
A sweet scent of…
Cotton candy flavored. Okay.
I tell myself it’s alright,
Though I prefer Fruit Loops, or some other
Sweet cereal flavor.
It’s fresh scent originates
From the flagpole.
A Doc Marten in my line of sight.
I don’t vape, actually. I also don’t go outside, but I had to write this.
Wait, I forgot an ode is supposed to be a poem.
Let us commence… the rest of this.
Through the summery haze and white sun,
The flagpole is a beaming sentinel
Over the quad,
not finishing my paper.
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