walking through the Manhattan mist
past the well-to-doers
and liberals until graduation,
I drew my jacket tighter,
stood my collar up against the horizontal rain
and ducked into the deli
for a sandwich made fresh, yesterday
and black coffee in a branded cup.
"Thank you" she would chime.
Each time, the same rhythm
the same, hollow sentiment
the same pasted-on smile.
I jay-walked across fifth avenue
to the horde of student-smokers
nineteen-year old world-changers-
debating politics,
and the economy,
and Shakespeare.
"He's such a bastard."
"What now?"
"I should be allowed to sleep in class. It's freedom of expression."
The glass doors,
fogged from the gray-
swung open
and I breezed past the insecurity guard
and climbed the single-wide escalator
to find a table,
a shadow in which to sit.
The clock ticked on
while I pretended to read Flannery O'Connor
and understand her droning on and on.
And it kept ticking.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Tick.
To remind me-
"Make it last. Make it worth it."
ah the "glamorus life" of college. What I like about this one besides the obvious (we both went to college and can realte to the groans and woes) is that I feel like a stranger walking in your footsteps as I read. Oh and "insecurity guard"? Nice touch
ReplyDeleteI love the "writing the names of my grandparents" line, but it seems a bit out of place... I would love to see that image become its own piece.
ReplyDelete