February Musings From A Single Guy

To the editors:

O February, month shortest of the year

Thou oft seem the longest.

This, I fear.

With twenty-eight days of horrid weather--

Wait! Twenty-nine is even better!

His shadow Groundhog always sees

As millions of flu-struck cit'zens sneeze.

Yes, spring is truly far, far away,

But not far enough,

We thesis-writers say.

They ask me, can I not wait for graduation?

To which I reply, with some trepidation,

I'd regard the event with much jubilation,

Except there is much to delay my elation...

I have no good job, I have no real clue,

I have no acceptance

To graduate school.

Just a brand-new semester, with all that implies.

The last one! Say seniors, with tears in our eyes.

What can we do, to seek consolation?

We still must have one annual celebration.

What better time than the bowels of the year,

To say those three words

We all long to hear.

A chance to express everlasting affection

To that someone you met last semester in section.

But how grand, how sublime must those sentiments be

That, sadly, are still not directed toward me.

And until such wonders come to pass, St. Valentine's Day can bite my a--.

Matthew S. Povich '00

Feb. 5, 2000