The Most Important Thing

On campus

housing for four

years of traditions of Karhu, Rottblatt and

stadium dungeons left behind for the arb

and the wind beyond highway 3 to Tom and

Olives in the hot dish tonight.

Why does that freshman stare at me when she only gives me one serving?

Don't I look

hungry for more.

Usually I wanted

fewer classes, fewer stares from the

patriarch I thought I'd left in

Connecticut-the Constitution state, when do the

people of Connecticut perpetuate liberty for the sixth ward, New England's rising

star? It's been a question since

1840 people crammed in tenements on the

river-there was no running water-and

that was the most important

thing

I learned in college.

But now there is

more that keeps me learning

running in this high school.

But I, I had room for Zen

and the Art of Western and Asian Wood

working in this high school

spirals around first, second, third

lunches spent in earnest

talks I had prepared for all day.

And now, in stride, I realize how many

grade levels I am behind.