Senioritis

Today’s sonnet is in honor of all of the students who are already going back to school for some reason, even though the beginning of August is absurdly early for it.

I don’t remember when I wrote this one, but it was sometime in the fall of 2003 and I was thoroughly sick of school. In at least one class I was the only senior among a bunch of freshman honors students, all of whom were eager to impress and prove that they “belonged” there.

Me, I just wanted to be done.

I remember writing this poem on a sunny autumn day during a lecture that was mostly review for me. I looked out the window and wished I was anywhere else, and wrote this as a consolation to myself.

For the record, I’ve significantly rewritten the last few lines. Something about academia being my niche (it’s not) and my own pretension of “bring[ing] life into this space” (I didn’t particularly). As originally written, it may have reflected how I felt at the time; revised, though, it better reflects what was actually happening.

Senioritis

Written circa September 2003

Why yes, I can recite—a puppet—what
I learned in other circumstances. I
Have no new insights—hardly even try.
A corner-dweller, ever silent. But
The world around me moves, and fledgling thought
Is birthed, expressed. The commerce of the mind—
Finance exchanged in insights—reveal, find—
A place in Academia is bought.
I wish I could give up this garbage, wish
That this pretension weren’t quite so much
Of my existence. But it is. As such,
I will endure until I find my niche.
Though false and boring, this is where I’m placed:
I will endure, and learn to grow in grace.

Photo by Mikael Kristenson on Unsplash