Now the great array of students, and Volvo-driving profs Slept all Wednesday morn, in drunken stupors often … But Night and sweet Rest touched not the Tower where Like bureaucrats of some god we typed the town On OSX and so! – come rosy-fingered Dawn – Gave Random Moments to this chaotic world

From the realm of Sports came long enumerations Every distance, goal and flashing Save recorded Hammered into terse Articles, well-shapen charts and graphs Some were even accurate!

Tennis won, the Ladies’ stout hearts were broken, In Ernst, where Poseidon’s very Swimmers Were, by long tradition, masters of all contending

More mild airs in Features, A&E Blew from that place where come Whimsy, Curios, and sweet Humor Laboriously aligned in columns of five, round photos, Like jesters’ armies massing on a plain

Discord and cruel Accusation massed in their realm Of Op-Ed, where collegiate dueled, O’er questions Presidential and of Bias Most hated of the Nymphs, unmatchable In being seen in every droll disagreement All these in their thunderous home were tamed, just barely! For one young Editor can direct the River, but not hold it.

Then at front there were the women (the men!) of News That realm of Tumult, shifting visions Each week some question crossed, was harnessed As swiftly, as briefly, as water at the mill. Interviews and documents and other ways of sooth Promised illumination in Gambier, the World Where they failed, sat sweet Correction Box Reminding we mortals of our place

For in those days we were, As brief as Life above cold ground The fools of all, friends of each other Pink Nectar and cheese cubes were our food Strange sport we made of ducks, of argument …

What’s done is done, we take our leave Like all before, to come, and ever Thus were we at night, in the township of Gambier Or was it all a dream?