Campus

When I was younger, I loved it at the college

When my father would get a call from the groundskeeper, we’d hop in the back of the pickup truck, my chariot across the tracks

My oldest brother Rob would get to sit in between our father and Tio,  

On a chair …

It was different up on the hill

It was different up at the college

The grass was green,

the buildings shined,

life,

everywhere

  

My brother and Johnny Martino used to sneak onto the campus on Friday nights

They’d ride their motorcycles to the oval and really play up the Italian for the freshmen girls,

One time, Johnny must’ve been with some preppy’s squeeze when he got challenged to the fight,

He and my brother made a mistake,

They showed up

I forgot which one of the ten said it,

But after the beating,

“Just a fucking townie guys, haha” one said, looking straight at my brother.

My brother changed that day. He knew something.

Convinced of the truth I was still fighting with

He knew they were better than him

Everyday

the gardens bloomed

and the children grew.

Up on the hill

Closer to the sun,

They grew

But the college kids never liked us.

They’d come down the hill and they’d buy coke from the Duke, or Shirley on Columbia Drive

Or slum at the Star Tavern, drink Jaegar and play darts because that’s what the Pineys did. They’d have a drink before a car would take them to far cooler places

Manhattan, AC, we’d guess

They knew we cared, and they loved it

I didn’t want to believe it but I knew it was true,

Their taunts were true,

I wanted to be them.

And on the night that I knew

I cried and cursed

I knew what my brother knew

I chose to write my creative piece in this style because I liked how Blue Colonial checked in with its poet throughout the years with the self-portraits. I wanted to do something similar. In my story, the narrator is checking in with the reader at different stages of his life. I tried to make it seem like these were entries in a diary.