Best Freshman Year Poems

on a field trip freshman year
the boy
in special classes walked 
up the muddy trail.
he
walked on the side,
balancing on the dry stones
aligning the path.
he followed some
acquaintances.
an old coat and
sweatpants with worn elastic
warmed his bones in the gray
mists. bus pass in his pocket
and a few coins, he...

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Sandra is early
She creeps in
sits in the last seat in the back
her head is down
she wants no one to see her
luckily no one ever does

Chuck is loud and proud
coming in surrounded by his posse
They also march to the back
One yells at Sandra to move
She moves...

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