In Time of War, College 1970

Something happening here; what it is ain't exactly clear.
—Buffalo Springfield

The tally of today's casualties
is scrolling across the tv in the lobby
as we rush for the dining hall.
We're late as usual so we also miss
the news that Janice Joplin
over-dosed. Not surprising— rigatoni again tonight.

Yeah, that's a poetry book in my back pocket.
Dylan Thomas, who raged against dying
then died young and far from home,
like Janice. Now the flames are going out
beneath this serving pan
and everything's getting cold.

I don't know what I was thinking
when I decided to sign up for
Meteorology, except it's easier
than Bio. But after the mid-term Friday,
I’ll still be able to make the draft
protest on the Circle.

Truth be told, I'm not entirely
comfortable with my knowledge
of barometric pressure.
But I do know this evening's clouds
are stratocumulus with cirrus moving in,
meaning there's change coming.

And over there in that patch of blue
you can still see the twisted contrails
from the planes that passed over
the library this afternoon
while we were holed up
in the stacks behind American History
dozing.