Brown maple leaves in my hands,

They said the whole world lay ahead.

I felt like a 70’s album cover,

The girl with a second chance. 

Professors and their ideologies,

Supposed to let them mold and shape us-


What if

They can’t fill the shoes we’ve imagined for them?

One, she speaks so eloquently.

Lulls me into a trance,

British lilt as I hear the life behind the art.


History drank a glass of water!

Now I’m all ears.

Another, drunk on his title,

Parades about eschewing fiction as if it’s fact.

We all smirk a little,

General consensus agrees.

A peacock in a lecture hall is quite odd.

Such a range, these are the ones cultivating future days.

For us to wade through and decipher,

Voices to follow and ones to block.

Legs criss cross under the tree outside,

All this freedom…