Bulldog Days came and went, and we spent Bulldog Days ’09 reading, writing, whittlin’ and generally being miffed that DUH was out of the new glow-in-the-dark condoms. (Who’d want to choose abstinence when you can make your Dick Tao look like a light saber?)
But now, after skimming through the Facebook groups of the ascendant class of 2013, we are pleased to welcome the newest batch of Elis to Yale. To honor them, we present poems written entirely from the opening lines of their personal statements and supplementary essays.
“The Bean Puzzle”
John Steinbeck’s “[The] Grapes of Wrath,”
Considered by many to be the Great American Novel,
Is perhaps the most inspiring work
Of fiction that I have encountered.
I will never become president of the United States.
I am a puzzle.
An incomplete puzzle, at that.
I have always seen myself as Bean,
The protagonist of “Ender’s Shadow.”
The chamber of the United States Senate is silent.
I looked around the room full of boxer-clad boys
As I pulled up my pants.
I’m not gay, but my best friend is;
I remember when he told me.
I will never become president of the United States.
“Neela Neela”
As I lifted my wrist high above my head,
A brilliant column of Blue light emerged
From my watch and zapped the monster
Across the face.
I saw it as a ghastly,
Shriveled old Grim Reaper.
They saw it as the music of languages,
The heart and soul of the old and new world[s].
The only sound I could hear was my heart beating.
The rough stones of the altar
Didn’t protect the candle
From flickering
As a slight breeze
Blew through the trees.
I shivered.
“There are a limited number of people who can do a back flip.”
“Fears of Farnam”
I remember vividly the first time
The hill our building sat on resonated
With the sound of a thousand protesting spoons beating on pans.
Holiday time is usually
‘Wild’ time.
It robs my mind of thoughts and tortures my brain.
My nose starts to buzz with the hint of red peppers.
“Do you think they could have made the seats any more uncomfortable?”