classy
Today was the first day of class.
You should have seen all the people.
Everyone couldn’t have had class, some of them must
have been gawkers, the types that slow to watch
flat tire changings and car wrecks.
Some were carrying maps - freshmen.
Like student drivers they clogged the paths,
drawing a few looks.
They gaggle together like geese,
Jeeezus - shut UP and get ON with it, freshies! I thought.
Not ungenerously - I remember being lost - back in the day.
I have class, myself - in both the intrinsic sense - of style -
and in the “research for credit” ‘check in on the first day,’ kind.
Still, we’re parading, and I’ve always loved parades.
My one regret is that there are no mimes or elephants.
ok.. poetry..
Stress is somewhere in my propinquity.
See, it’s known to stalk this vicinity.
I’m not a freshman, so it hasn’t struck yet,
but when it does, and it will, you can bet,
that initially, it will shake my tranquility
and end our start-of-year festivities.
It will creepily creep, destroying my sleep,
until I prove my scholastic resiliency.
.
.
Songs for this:
Violently Happy by Björk
Schoolin' Life by Beyoncé
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