College Locust Chatter
Our laughter carries the fog as we curse the saggy beachball
of a moon that floats, deflated of freshman backwash.
We’re passing that needlepoint sailboat flask weightlessly,
as it binds us buoyantly as bloodbuzzed brothers.
You got that scholarship and you’re leaking rocket fuel
all over my new shoes and misaligned trajectory crash sites.
I had a date with that Indonesian girl last night
and I can break rocks with my hands, I swear.
We are the definition of pink carnations, you know?
Colonials of the starlight! Pioneers of the wide-angle lens!
We’ve collectively published several philosophy textbook solution manuals,
but it’s late and I’m seasick from living on EBT,
and we’re only two 100’s away from calling it a night.
By Lucas Nydam