End of the Year (new draft)

I ended up liking the first draft so much that I spent some time this week revising it. I just came back from the poetry slam and got a bunch of scores in the five and six range for it. Ha, I guess that's how it goes.

Poesy:
The university celebrated the end of the semester
by delivering dumpsters to each dormitory,
the idea being that students would be most remembered
by what they had thrown away. And when they left
they left behind all knowledge of what they had accumulated.
Off they drove into the sunset of forgetfulness
believing they will never have to return.
Jealous, the remaining students must stay one more night
in the ruins of an abandoned campus.

With nothing better to do, I decide to take a walk.
One last stroll through the campus
I wouldn’t see again until the end of the summer.
Unsurprisingly, the sights that meet me are of the apocalypse.

The remaining roommates dumpster dive together
finding food and drink in bulk,
discarded to save space and time.
One shouts this is enough food for a month
even though this is their last night together.
I want to ask them: Will you divide your spoils up?
Better yet, would you want to live on ramen noodles and propel water?

In the Starbucks the employees
are only making drinks for themselves.
It looks like an Edward Hopper Nighthawks scene
in a commercialized space conducting the energy
of the awkward, lean bodies inside.

People have parked their cars where I have never seen them before:
lawns, sidewalks, courtyards.
Without their drivers they look abandoned,
yet sitting in place without the fear of being stolen,
even on a night of disinterested pillaging.

The order in the landscape is changing, being challenged,
yet the lamp posts still shine
as polite as slaves can be.
The sprinklers know they are unsupervised.
Their malfunctions froth in the drowning grass.
The excited ones dream of being fountains,
their wild sprays stain the sidewalks,
creating dark puddles,
an inconvenience for the few pedestrians walking around.

This is the last night for lovers.
Men and women in two by twos
stand in the shadows of buildings—
It is the night before Noah.
Whether she is leaving him
or he her does not matter.
The summer is a distance that cannot be overcome.
Like mementos, they transmit their last thoughts from lip to lip.
And this is for them.