The Love Song of J. Otis Townfrock

by Mike Bocchini with apologies to T.S. Eliot

Let us go to the Marvin Center, you and I
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like an unconscious freshman on the bathroom floor;
Let us go through certain unnamed buildings,
XX and New Hall
To J Street lines with endless waits:
To lead you to an overwhelming question.
Oh, do not ask, `Why stand for hours at Taco Bell Express?’
Let us go and get a Jamba Juice.

In the Quad the women come and go
Talking of water polo

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, `Do I dare?’ and, `Do I dare?’
Time to turn back and go to the Gap
To buy new slacks and perhaps a cap –
(They will say: `How his clothes are out of fashion!’)
(They will say: `But how his shirts and pants are old!’)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare eat a pretzel?
I shall wear white flannel trousers before Memorial Day.

I have measured out my life with Starbucks coffee spoons;
I should have been a pair of ragged black Capri pants
Clinging to the ass of a sorority sister.

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As lectures in a required class
Or Hill rats’ feet over broken glass.

Shape without form, shade without color
Paralyzed student association, administration without emotion.

This is the way my column ends
This is the way my column ends
This is the way my column ends
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck – it’s the April Fool’s Day issue, why not enjoy it?