it was a vital step,
a coup de grace.
They had predicted he
would die of fright
and as he carried on
I thought he might.
he was at liberty
to go headfirst
and drunk into a deep
crevasse, to burst.
Instead he signed the lease
for only one
at Luther Hall.
Son of a gun.
There was a janitor, he said ‘my son’,
Put off, I walked away to close my ears,
there were no written laws, for scholarships
no rent to pay and no arrears,
there was Renée of course, her trembling lips.
They did provide a case, vinyl at best,
all papers were to be sent in to stay,
each Monday was a day of total rest,
but every Wednesday, we hit the fray.
There was that friggin’ bridge,
to campus one,
a very icy ridge
and zero fun.
The Mississippi cold
would eat your flesh,
each morning ‘s walk was…well,
a bit too fresh.
They hired little me
to help with kids,
all radiographs would need
their silly bids,
I did refuse the job
and was dismissed,
that night Renée and I,
we really kissed.
Renée did leave me then
in sixty six,
she went to other men
and I was nix.
I often wonder how
she really is,
that Minnesota Frau
with so much fizz.

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