State-Bound Wide Receiver Discovers Poetry

by Max Hartshorn

Hey Mrs. S! Thanks for a wonderful semester! I’ll always remember you even when I’m breaking records at State. You taught me to point my index finger at society, and not my middle finger at jerks. Maybe our paths will criss-cross again someday. Maybe then the world will finally be run by that ancient race of philosopher kings. Who knows? Not me.

The Lane Not Taken

Two lanes diverged on a busy road,
And I knew the right led to my work
And with my Spectra, down I slowed
And glimpsed at where the traffic flowed
To a halt behind some dumbass jerk.

Then took the other, cause what the hey?
And making perhaps a bit more sense,
Cause it looks empty, at least I pray;
Plus there’s a Wendy’s along the way,
Large fries and burger would be intense.

But down to the right was Stacy Gray
With whom I longed to make sweet love.
Oh, I kept that for another day!
Though probably should have made the play,
A Namath pass from up above.

I shall be telling this with a pie
At Wendy’s twenty minutes hence:
Two lanes diverged on a road, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that is why I am different.

P.S. Hey maybe hip-hop is like my generation’s poetry.

P.P.S. Did you ever notice that most people in school dress exactly the same? It’s (sorry, it is) like they don’t have any individualism, or whatever.


(keywords: Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken)


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