[…]


Charlie Rossiter

U.S. 1 Ran Right Through Campus

On nights when I felt low
I stared out the window
at passing cars
and thought about how
that road
was a long straight shot
to Florida
if I had the nerve
to take it.

Guys I’d known
had disappeared there
into the world of work
and cars and money,
a world without term papers
or blue books.

One guy came back
after a semester
with tales of big bucks
working as a bellhop
at a fancy hotel
in Miami.  At the time,
that sounded good to me.
I was tired of that helpless
student feeling
tired of counting pennies.
I was young and strong
and optimistic
that my life would be
beautiful
no matter what I did.

For months I wavered.

Classes were a drag
but I loved the library
the lectures
the National Symphony
on Tuesday nights.
It was nip and tuck there
for a while
between cutting out
and hanging on.
Then I met Nanya
and fell in love.

It was a grand passionate love
the kind where souls meet,
the kind of love filled
with continual fulfillments.

You know the rest.
U.S. 1 became irrelevant,
I hung on.

return to SHAMPOO 11