There was in man a short lived dream to do Classics,
Second Semester in a campus far from the Aegean.
Among pillars of knowledge that rose like jurassics
And maids, in their way sweet, but not quite Phrygian.
Perhaps, to study myth, to be the succeeding Peiris,
Redefine oracular truth, re-read Athen.
Or at the worst to be to some sick Venus mighty Ares,
Though I held the fucking sword way poorer to the pen.
A short lived one, I said, and when the dream was over
I sat for English, its cannon and its breed.
To top it, outside the window came a lawn mower
And a man to man it, all committed to the deed.
Of those who took the class, the hot ones are married now
Or are planning it; or are deep in all consuming love.