Last Hour

A Poem by Magen Kumquat

A poem about the agony of school.

Last Hour

In my endless hours of study I search for my lost hours. Google says its two days ahead but I don't see any break in the dark cavern of homework. I feel as if a steam roller will fall and shatter my poor, tireless body but I still continue. As if the chains of the future are pulling me, I walk, zombie-like, in my quest of education.

Integrands that take an eternity fall as I shield myself with my graphing calculator. Supply and demand brake their contact and seek new customers. 1A Long forms appear from a fog of taxes, looking for its next victims. The bond of up and down quarks seem to befuddle my mind as they move in my mind. Chefs watch as their short five minute rides becomes a long, somber work through a froth sea of knives. The leaves of paper, from the trees of acting, sends chills of pain down the actors of theater. The pools turn into jello as swimmers jump into that vile, unknowingly. The winds of physics created mathematic chaos where there was once silent order.

The world of arts is swallowed by a red sea of paint, perhaps a Sister of Katrina? The tvs of Spanish start speaking in a suddle but thick accent that confuses their students. Hitler seemed to come to live in German textbooks, as he started commanding anew decades later. Paint brushes started dancing in Japanese and Chinese painting “mustaches” and “faces” on people.

Librarians watch in horror as their “macs” start shooting discs out of their “mouthes”. There humble tomes, that were motionless, lifeless, and “open”, now grow angry and spot their odes and hymns. Could one last the spell of “A Tale of Two Cities?”Today was not a best of times, nor was it the worst of times. It was hell.

PCs BSODed non-stop and the white apple had a kernel that panicked. Scores of papercuts were seen on office workers and grosses of chemicals spilled at Bech Hall. A colorful green fire was seen there as other's ran into the room with stars. The astronomy class, was now a room of people with seizures. Tutors felt the touch of HAL as teachers fought with their grade books.

Networkers used machetes to fight against the CAT cable, as the routers made their own little intranet. Many succumbed to the songs that came from Lucifer's Mouth in the music lab. But this was just the beginning.

Many say raining cats and dogs is a sign but is its a message when furlongs of textbooks rain down upon this campus? Its true that its raining money, in books, but does anyone like paper cuts? The medics run awry trying to find a shield that would stop their paper menace. If only magic was a class at this campus but alas that is fiction, not reality.

To many who haven't stepped foot in this place, it is not darkness. It is not the worst day of school but just another day. Homework and tests appear like vermin in countless encounters. To many college students, its just another fight.