For Those Who Follow
I'd just as soon not bother,
As they pass the papers out.
There's a template, you see--
No more than 500 characters,
"Including spaces", we are warned.
I've met maybe a dozen "characters"
Among the denizens of this cesspool of bland conformity.
I am torn--I could just pass it by,
But knowing who is charged with creating the yearbook,
I fear allowing their spoof to be attached
To my picture forever.
Graviora manent
No doubt they'd look it up
And be disappointed
I wasn't threatening mayhem to all.
"Remember, this is your legacy"
A tight-lipped sponsor warns.
No doubt tired of the witticisms
Of nearly-men who think "American Pie" great cinema.
My legacy.
I doubt it.
It I have such, then it may be
A host of websites blocked by the school server.
Perhaps the less than legal herbs
Which poke through soil of the courtyard garden
When spring arrives.
There are always those few pieces of art
Which made the bulletin board,
Until the powers that be
Recognized their own faces
In the grimaces of the gargoyles.
Still, I may leave a darker mark,
There are five months left to go...
No comments:
Post a Comment