College (Pick Up)

College is over soon so pick up your own socks that stick together crustily and stale. And pick up your old food crumbs that packed in the crevice of your coffee table— no, it wasn’t grout. And pick up those lint boroughs beneath your heater/washer unit that washes more than it heats. Pick up those old notes with doodles on the corners and sides and pick up that ticket from the football game from three years ago that you went to drunk. You saved that ticket so you’d remember the win— getting drunk and blacking out isn’t remembering the win. Pick up your pants. They fell around your ankles that night you partied. And that puke you let crust on your shower curtain, yeah that wasn’t soap scum. No one told you because they were too busy picking up your screen door. You forced your inebriated hand through that dirty screen more times than you forced yourself to make an advising appointment. You forgot to pick up your pin number that one semester. You hated that, but now— now’s different! You’ll pick up your cap and gown and you’ll pick up your diploma walking across that stage. You’ll pick up your mother and kiss her while you both cry. Because you can’t pick up your father, he’s had hip surgery and a bad back. He can barely pick up his own shoes but he will be proud. Then you can pick up from where you left off back home.

Oh wait, will you go home…

or will you pick up a ticket for the warm coast and see where your life will pick up from there?


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