The Alchemy of Coffee in the Morning
*I'VE EDITED IT!*
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Each sweatshirt-clad student radiates their personal grievances. Math! Psychology! Field Hockey! Law! And for the sorority girl put the soymilk in her sugarfree chai, Vogue said that natural matches animal this season.
Celebrate! On your feet the fur.
Celebrate! On your hips the yoga. No cream for me. No feminine mystique.
But FRIENDS forever! ...while in the system. A network woven from lace underwear, mulch of insincere air, and the glossy faces of two-dimensional relationships; the wax in the museum has melted from the heat of digital dominance, insincerity trapped for eternity in a 4 X 6 binary code.
And for the professor sweater a black coffee in the black personalized mug because black matches the track marks of years of fair-coffee addiction. Years of protest and fair-trade triumph! You BEAT the man, the media conspiracy of Brazilian Beans. And you know your personalized mug does not impregnate the coffee with exotic memories. And you know its made in China with the tea. But no time for arguing this technicality, it's not in the syllabus, and you've got minds to mold! Here on the real original assembly line, where academia has paved the streets with gold (California wants its image back), you've overcome the man, and this warrants your pretension: dilated eyes and increased heart beat included.
And here comes diversity. A bit of freshness in this diverse world where diversity can go unnoticed and THANK YOU DEAN OF STUDENTS for bringing to our attention how incredibly diverse our campus is because the student warriors with their paper swords cutting multicultural diversity into my bloodstream went unnoticed on the snowy day they protested in defiance of the white blanket, campaigning the weather gods for snow that is spectrum inclusive. Gather the army! This one's for you, Roy G. Biv!
And then one perches in her corner booth, nesting in the eclecticism of her image. She has rouged her apples post-haste for that morning's final but her non-velour lounge pants ooze nonchalance in a color the shade of her lip gloss.
And she waits, watches and judges.
And she writes Sufjan's California album because her observant nature is teen-unique after 19 years, and the popular obsession with the golden state's mirage must be propogated; and her cause bracelets judge YOU as you judge her and we all pretend to believe in peace but really, we pull on our fur boots and stamp "Made in China" into our caffeinated ulcers, affirm our actions to BA(M)N racism! and grasp the warm cup to feel something in this world of cold-tech-love. This blanket of steel and smoke and mechanical beeps with accompanying lights that define the parameters of living and dead.
All Salute Ford!
Franklin!
Graham!
Gates!
They take the world in their morning coffee, retiring alchemy to Fantasia.
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Each sweatshirt-clad student radiates their personal grievances. Math! Psychology! Field Hockey! Law! And for the sorority girl put the soymilk in her sugarfree chai, Vogue said that natural matches animal this season.
Celebrate! On your feet the fur.
Celebrate! On your hips the yoga. No cream for me. No feminine mystique.
But FRIENDS forever! ...while in the system. A network woven from lace underwear, mulch of insincere air, and the glossy faces of two-dimensional relationships; the wax in the museum has melted from the heat of digital dominance, insincerity trapped for eternity in a 4 X 6 binary code.
And for the professor sweater a black coffee in the black personalized mug because black matches the track marks of years of fair-coffee addiction. Years of protest and fair-trade triumph! You BEAT the man, the media conspiracy of Brazilian Beans. And you know your personalized mug does not impregnate the coffee with exotic memories. And you know its made in China with the tea. But no time for arguing this technicality, it's not in the syllabus, and you've got minds to mold! Here on the real original assembly line, where academia has paved the streets with gold (California wants its image back), you've overcome the man, and this warrants your pretension: dilated eyes and increased heart beat included.
And here comes diversity. A bit of freshness in this diverse world where diversity can go unnoticed and THANK YOU DEAN OF STUDENTS for bringing to our attention how incredibly diverse our campus is because the student warriors with their paper swords cutting multicultural diversity into my bloodstream went unnoticed on the snowy day they protested in defiance of the white blanket, campaigning the weather gods for snow that is spectrum inclusive. Gather the army! This one's for you, Roy G. Biv!
And then one perches in her corner booth, nesting in the eclecticism of her image. She has rouged her apples post-haste for that morning's final but her non-velour lounge pants ooze nonchalance in a color the shade of her lip gloss.
And she waits, watches and judges.
And she writes Sufjan's California album because her observant nature is teen-unique after 19 years, and the popular obsession with the golden state's mirage must be propogated; and her cause bracelets judge YOU as you judge her and we all pretend to believe in peace but really, we pull on our fur boots and stamp "Made in China" into our caffeinated ulcers, affirm our actions to BA(M)N racism! and grasp the warm cup to feel something in this world of cold-tech-love. This blanket of steel and smoke and mechanical beeps with accompanying lights that define the parameters of living and dead.
All Salute Ford!
Franklin!
Graham!
Gates!
They take the world in their morning coffee, retiring alchemy to Fantasia.