From Vandy, First Year

I decked myself out in a snazzy purple turtleneck, skinny jeans, and clip-clop Italian boots, trying to strike a balance between looking well put-together, staying warm, and wearing the things I can't wear when I am going to work having to look "professional." Then I found this and smiled.

I became what one will become
Beneath the chilly winter sun,
Confinement does me good and so
I love trapped chaos and don't let go,

But when I taste the warming wind
I am tshirt-jeans again,
And when I smell the growing grass,
Time distilled inside may pass,
And I long to live, perchance to die,
To taste freedom or to fly,
I was collared shirts until
Spring returned, us all to fill,
We were living but forgot what's life,
With pain our pleasure has been rife,
Yet with pleasure too our pain has been,
We can't complain when this sets in,
But only move and only change,
Perhaps be tshirt-jeans again.

-3/22/05