By Thomas Page

My many years can be summed in on a transcript

Marking each of my earned three-hours with a letter

And a decimal’d point to a larger number

That makes me summa or magne or not

At the end of it all on a May day.

Can I sum it all up in a poem that will go with the tide?

Something that I should have learned in biology but did not

Or rot like a body in the hollowed ditch behind Marist?

Or maybe hold its place among the anthologies lugged by future Majors

Only remembered on the comps of senior year?

Or maybe it will change like the sandwich place in the Pryz every semester

Or be as consistent as the need for caffeine from certain coffee-shops

Sitting above the courts inside and out?

Can I sum up everything that every was in my education,

Forgetting the silent moments lost like a leaf in a tornado

That only reappear when it all settles

In some alumni-minded event or correspondence?

Who knows?

Certainly not me.

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