Good Paper Poem by Bill Grace

If it is true Harvard will welcome my papers
I repent of any more poems being written upon cheap paper
Suspect Mother must be rejoicing that at last I am in
Despite the small matter of death’s admission
This venerable institution which she said she would scrub floors
To see me through, which I suspect was a lie
That a lot of love and luck and therapy has helped me see
Berkeley’s environment not being too shabby a place
For one with a great hunger to learn
Presbyterian mother and Catholic father not understanding the achievement
Until he was dead and she living with the retired of Cornell
At last she understood Berkeley was Harvard with better sun.