On Walking Across Campus, October 3, 2005

for Stark Pimp and Wasabi Wolf

I.

The ladies are everywhere in fitted pink polos, knee socks--
then I remember my Scoliosis and look away. The Bookstore
is closed for remodeling: do they hate America or just G-D.
I know them, the ladies, they have to take showers
and long baths at some point; they cannot wait forever.

Perhaps Heisenberg was right about wearing short to play a show.


II.

Older man (physical sciences) on bike--helmet, saddle bags--
rushing to a panel discussion. I can still smell the earnest,
overlong question that bubbles inside him. His measured
speech: they built a cooling tower on a landfill and it began to sink.

(Physical Sciences): Acid washed jean shorts with pockets
on the inside (not outside): they were a mistake, let's admit it.


III.

My heart is a parking meter: an annoyance and empty
after six. I walk past the practice fields and see a man
and his young son. The son asks, "What are they playing?"
The man responds, "They are playing words." The boy
does not stand a chance. Oh snap! Ladies playing rugby.

I know they will have to bathe at some point.