The rumors are true: I’m graduating. Byeeeee!! But before I go, honor and duty compel me to use my lofty platform at the Columbia Federalist to pen odes to my campus missed connections.
O, Dean, Jamel, and Kwame of Ferris,
Dear shepherds of the morning-time omelette,
How I longed to be part of your banter.
I don’t know much about sports or dining hall
drama, but to share a smile with you,
sets my eyes and hearts scrambling with joy.
Once, I asked you for four eggs, rife with the
Boldness of youth. They looked at me and asked
If I was an athlete. No, I said, but
I lift weights. What weights, five pounds? They asked me.
Sometimes, I said. Now, may I have spinach, broccoli, ham, and turkey, please?
Omelette. Thanks.
I will forever and always watch my eggs while I am standing on the line.
To the corgis of Columbia,
Come out and play!
Let me see you all,
Strutting across College Walk and Broadway.
Once, I saw seven corgis in a day.
That was a good day.
To the Wafels and Dinges truck,
You confuse me so.
How can I see the calendar at which you throw darts
To decide when you’ll arrive?
How can I ensure I walk by your wafel-ly scent
And joyfully fluttering Belgian flag
At my heart’s desire?
Come back, come back, sweet love,
Let me feast my eyes upon the WMD (Wafel of Mass Deliciousness)
At my heart’s content.
To that one security guard who has celebrated
Ash Wednesday while on the job every year,
You fascinate me. Don’t think I can’t recognize you
Without your little ashen cross – I can.
Every year, I forget Ash Wednesday.
Why would I remember? I’m Jewish.
But you, you always remind me.
We’ve never spoken, but I’d love to hear your ashy thoughts.
I want to know what you gave up for Lent.
I want to know what it means to repent.
Most importantly. I want to know what you thought of Conclave.
