Varsity - Poem by Christopher Apfelbach
My idea of paradise
is a university at dusk,
late May, utterly alone.
No angels necessary—
just the clouds of insects
whirring around like electrons,
and no heavenly light, either,
unless it was that kind that only
comes from a very old streetlamp
filtering through oak leaves.
Never mind, for now,
that those Corinthian columns
are not fashioned from cirrus,
or that the low-watt hum
of the generators does not really
resemble a celestial choir.
Focus instead on that greenhouse
and its thousand dreaming cacti,
on the stars' dim oscillations,
on the graduate student pacing
in the solitary lit window
like an insomniac Dante
and grading with a blue felt pen
a piece of poetry much like this one.
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The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You