I lost my shoe.

Welcome back, kiddies! School is starting up again and even though I haven't been a student in more years than I'd like to admit, it's still an easy way to track time. Students are back in town, which means a few things: going near the university for anything is a bear; shouts of "woo!" will rise exponentially as will the hem of skirts; you won't be able to go out to breakfast on a weekend and not wait an hour if you show up after 10:00AM... hangovers are, after all, a slow process; and finally, fights.

Friend M. observed the last item this last weekend in a town about 50 miles up the road. She sent me a Captain's Log of events in poetry form. I told her I must share. The second is particularly good.

From MQH~
Here's my weekend in coffee house poetry form:

Just Another Testosterone Saturday Night
Huge fist fight broke out right in front of my house. Horrible.
25 to 30 skinny white boys in hoodies.
I had to call 911. The cops chased them down just like on TV.
Handcuffed face down in the grass.
There were injuries. A circle of blood left on my lawn.

Recite with bongos and black beret for maximum effect.

Stab Wound to the Neck

He's bleeding out. Said the cop.
I lost my shoe. Said the boy.
You're injured. Said the cop.
I lost my shoe. Said the boy.
Get something to tie it off. Said the cop.

No comments: