Serving students and faculty since 1971

This poem was the 2nd Place Winner in our 3rd Annual Poetry Contest.


Though fallow and brown, it’s a wormhole

Transporter in consumption’s own hometown!

Set all coordinates to collapse

In upon themselves. Fill’er up

With holy water; recycle mortal maps.

There’s founding boss Jacob Smith

With firewater and a pen. Train

That water hose, brother,

On Billy and Chucky’s men.

There’s concept boss Roger something

With a shovel and a plan. Film him digging

Past the water table, popping up

In Guangdong to feed kids sand.

The army corps of engineers is here

Reining in rivers with rock. Don’t forget

To slab in good the foundry’s toxic spot.

Making leaded gas is making me thirsty

For workplace democracy or locally grown celery.

But here’s ultra boss with a writ in his talons.

He trained a four-headed dog to quell money problems

By feeding heavy metal to children. Indeed

This vehicle comes loaded with the latest, greatest

Innovations the globe has ever known. Where else can you witness

Past, present, and providence

While sitting in a hole?