Fraternity House Poems | Examples

Then the World Died

for Jessica

Orchards recurring: Two twenty year olds 
on dissimilar paths undaunted by love’s 

tapestry approaching exclamatory 
yields of apricot musk and peach marmalade 

their unified voice.  It was you.  Tonight you’ll take
me in Albuquerque sex 10,000 miles away.

I’m walking home from Dane Smith Hall thinking of
Houston - how it’s become a common noun I’ve told

you about while outside the fraternity house
and it’s increasingly proper status

watching us smoke cigarettes.  Our unspoken
thoughts vanish.  Grey.  White.  Blue.  Oncology.