Dinner with the Denizens
Anywho. I've been wanting to try this for, well, eleven days now. My schedule wasn't cooperating -- who needs free time, anyway? -- but today I finally dug in my heels and scribbled it out. Rusty rhyme warning: I haven't written a proper poem in months. Continue at your own risk!
As college dorms go, it was ancient and small;
Brick walls surrounding eight suites to a hall.
The schedules we juggled left no time for games,
You'd have claimed, but I smile at their names
And the pranks, the songs, the movies with John
While across the hall Furqan took Dominic on
In debates of religion, and cultural ties,
And the morals on which our society lies--
But oh! the delight of such young engineers
Was never the parties, the cars, or the beers.
Brothers and sisters in logic we walked
Each Saturday night to Ernie's, and talked
Of homework and headaches, professors and proofs,
Of music and maths and spontaneous spoofs.
The topics were varied, the discourse erratic;
Our arguments sound, if melodramatic--
And while we adored this weekly tradition,
One meal of them all stands the banner edition.
I cannot remember the fare that we shared,
Though I know it was bland, and none of us cared,
For, far too absorbed in the drawing of tables
On cheap paper napkins, with wobbly labels
And diagrams, charts, sketches aplenty!
The boys, our boys, those learned cognoscenti--
Well, I confess, I learned something new
Of the rules that govern a stop at the loo..
Disclaimer: I am not British (or Canadian, for that matter). I am also not Italian. If I have, perchance, offended any who are.. well now, don't leave your language where I can reach it, eh?
So there you have it. I'm pointing anyone who finds this to Cuttlefish's tent rather than set up my own; he's already made it clear that you're welcome, and you'll certainly meet more interesting folks there than at any dinner I might host. Off with you!