Florida is the
cheese at the end of the maze
known as air travel.
Spring break
1
Florida is the
cheese at the end of the maze
known as air travel.
Like cows with their cud
we would chew constantly, and
then we’d all swallow.
One piece would last for
hours and have few calories.
(I’m working on it.)
From a Revealing
start to this auspicious point –
my life in short form.
Night winds roar like a
giant parent screaming “Go
to sleep!” without words.
Hunched and hobbling I
move as if years older, a
taste of what’s to come.
We all complain there’s
no place to plug in. One by
one, our laptops die.
Muddy quads, walls bare
of ivy still inspire awe.
Can we get in?
Ph.D.s waitress
here, M.A.s babysit, ’cause
no one wants to leave.
Hills like cut paper
black against tissue blue skies.
Through poked holes, stars shine.