On your Graduation

Who are you, where am I, how are we to deny

Short years, freak fears, dry tears passed us by

I but blinked an eye, and a thought got caught

In my throat as I dote, in a floating boat dearly bought

By blood that dug out dirt so we could float

Around my castle, I’ll bid we’re hid amid my moat

Past the last of the battle, I know the mast is a hassle

But still, let’s thrill, bend the will to the twill of the tassel

Time to cast all else aside, it’ll dangle on the side,

The border of my mortar as I stride

Beside the laureate tide, I slide a slight

Side step out of order, slip a sight

Atop of cords of reporter’s recorders twisted and bended

Such a stressful mess must be mended

But our time is ended you see,

Send some younger jerk to his AV destiny


So order me a frosty, filled pale ale,

Served fully, and wholly, not holy in a grail

Don’t port her a short porter

For Shirley, you see, she’s a hop-hoarder

Pour to the tip-top mug border and him,

So slim, why you can sate his whim

With a glass glossed from stem to brim, a blur

Of, what the hell rhymes with Pilsner?


Whatever, who cares, who dares to group pairs

Hop up atop tables to strip wears ‘till bare

Feel the flickering foul fumes and acrid dive-bar air

And declare with flare as they stare:

“I am a vacillating hippopotamus!  Beware!”


now drop down to the floor, chug some more

flop a tip and then dash out the door

before the cops stop by to ask the who’s and the why’s

and which way’s, while sipping their pops (and rye)

don’t gab and greet, to be free you must Retreat!

Be fleet, shake those feet down the street

We’ll meet at the shore, as swimming hippopotami

And, what the hell rhymes with Pilsner?



                                                                        -David Huseby