(about 1992)
I shall wear suit jackets
with the sleeves rolled twice and brown buckle shoes.
And I shall spend my money on pineapple juice
and a small trampoline, and silky pajamas
and say I've no money for hair coloring.
I shall study on the stairs of some important place
and inhale the smell of lilacs or rain on the pavement
and write my love life on the cement with dandelions
and do things to remind me that my spirit is young.
I shall go out in my tennis shoes and jump in puddles
and splash you, and learn to rappel.
You can wear jeans and Birkenstocks and impress me
and eat Froot Loops and Wheat Thins
or only carrots and yogurt for a week.
And look at picture albums and read old letters.
But now we must have seven classes and study at home
and clean our rooms and not lower our GPA
and stay away from puddles, or we'll get sick.
We will call each other sometimes and have fun together
(when we can, of course).
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
when suddenly I am in college and start to wear suit jackets.
