food for though

at the whim of mesmerizing professors,
at the whim of their brilliant brains,
confounding us, persuading us,
and all of a sudden, betray us,
and go off on an entirely new tangent,
so that we are yet again on the
bottom, in the shadow
of their radiance.

where are you?
brunette with a cute face
with no make up,
wearing tight jeans
carrying a book bag
like the girl from next door.
there are so many of you walking around,
roaming the cafeteria,
roaming the greens.
but when weekend comes,
you disappear and in come
skanks in dresses-too-short,
make-up too heavy,
reeking of alcohol.
are you in some remote dormroom
having an intimate conversation?
where can i come find you
cause i don’t like these skanks no more?
they scare me.
or do you simply cease to exist on weekends?
which is your facade,
the skinny-jeans girl or the mini-skirt girl?
tell me so i don’t keep hoping anymore
so that i can make up my mind.


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