essay at midnight
and she is frothing with all the wrong things
the economics boy kissing inside her inside his computer script
and also him kissing his girlfriend.
the cold coffee, just one-fifty more calories with
crumbs wet at the bottom.
the ripe, nice words falling into her tired
hands. english major: that’s a nice shitty
joke.
the motto for this college: we put the liberal in
liberal arts.
essay at 10:33 p.m. with ninety minutes to her
next perfect grade, while her roommate is out selling
sex to Time himself, that classy pimp. the roommate is
a failed state, her personal Venezuela. but
she has been
kissed.
the other girl is not envious she is waiting
for a romance like the ones in
asian dramas. where the boy grabs her wrist and pulls
her around and kisses her. like all the things she
watches with ramen and cantopop
and fake tears. she is waiting for
marriage.
the essay, however; the racist essay, half black type and half
white, very Jim Crow. it is waiting for her,
it is the only man in her life right now. she gets up for
more coffee. the roommate comes
in and out with lipstick smeared, ugh it’s so cliche
it’s a joke.
the last pavilion 