Monday, March 24, 2008

Full Moon Cigarettes

We shared cigarettes beneath full moons
discussing British Lit and cantankerous professors
We sang John Mayer beneath umbrellas
before anyone else knew he was in.

Diligent studentswe swapped notes and theories
laughed at Chaucer, kissed through Beowulf
Winking and smiling through the Bard.
Sir Gawain was no competition
when he called me Guinevere
holding hands to whisper
Tennyson in my ear.

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