Bad Lawrence Poetry #2

Honk Honk Honk

The geese are here

For spring.

Or was the

Honk Honk Honk

From College Avenue?

A symphony of horns, a

Charcuterie of radios.

Plantz Hall,

a dartboard for

Whatever the next toyota throws.

The bullseye is the screaming on the weekends.

I think.

I’ll live in Plantz next year.

Your housing number is one.

One million and twenty five.

I heard laughing from number seven,

As they heard my number

“I thought seniors got better numbers”

Ha Ha

No singles.

Didn’t you hear? Oh, poor guy.

Is there a Plantz hall back home?


Where else is there such ambience?

Such light.

More light?

No hot plates or candles in dorm rooms.

Say no warmth, light is alright.

The light in Main Hall is

The light in Warch is

The light in Hiett is

It’s warm.

These lights are warm.

These places are home.

No hot plates. No candles.

No home?

I’ll drive home.

Past Lawe street.

Honk Honk Honk.