The Host

Like the Statue of Liberty, the library called,

“Give me your tired, give me your weary” 

A lighthouse, it gleamed in the distance.

It was a sanctuary, 

Their sanctuary,

Home to chairs that were 

Uncomfortable but they had stopped minding

Various Tupperware containers being opened 

Different cuisines fusing into one,

At the same time.

It was a good fusion.

Studying, they tried, eventually, the subjects would 

Merge into one, math and english and science, 

And so many others, the majors were endless,

At this point, though, they were one and all the same.

They tried to force themselves awake,

Taking breaks, they

Watched the football on the television,

But they had watched a hundred games like this one,

And it had yet to become different.

Besides, their mind had entered a dream-like state,

Half-asleep, they ate their dinner.

It was impersonal, cooked by someone they didn’t know,

Not to say it wasn’t good, 

Because it was, 

But they missed home, a little bit.

Eventually, they couldn’t resist the pull of gravity,

They laid their heads on their books

And their eyes begin to flutter

Still, they tried to keep awake, realizing that they had been tricked

The library was courteous, a gentleman,

It tiptoed around them 

Cast sparkling shadows from the sunset

Onto their faces,

And lulled them to sleep.

Rainbow Road

the rain comes on suddenly,

too sudden.

they are unprepared, their hoods from their hoodies

are all they have, their

 umbrellas are forgotten at home, they are

 unfamiliar with michigan weather,

where the saying goes 

“if you don’t like the weather,

wait ten minutes.” 

they realize this soon but

not soon enough.

the water that the drain rejected has seeped

into their converse, their nike air force ones, their checkered vans,

 cleaning the once-white soles but 

leaving them damp,

uncomfortable.

their solution for this is coffee 

like it is for many of their problems,

cold, iced tea, contrasting with the weather,

whisked in their hands, flurrying away. 

the sidewalks get their dose of cleaning, from 

shoes that walk miles upon it every day,

the leaves lose their crunch, and instead

shine brightly on the pavement,

like walking on rainbow road

from mario kart.

a topic of conversation,

rain is.

all day long, 

coats are thrown off, umbrellas shaken at doorsteps, 

they say “it’s pouring out there!” 

and they have this same conversation every time it rains,

their shoes always get wet, 

they always get coffee,

they always walk on rainbow road,

they go through this every time it rains,

and yet their love for it 

never wavers.