Ringing the doorbell at the campus bookstore A vintage, pull chain contraption Antiquated, yet still rather expensive A lot of fine print within the caption
Education is a self-fulfilling myth When the public library is free Pay your tuition into the system It all depends from what lens you wish to see
Remembering your own aches
The graveyard of broken cassettes
It was always the end of the world
Unconfined angst you won’t forget
Dreams & passions ill proportioned
All lost in a looping mixtape
Those days will forever be with us
For they were the days when we were shaped
Last season’s vintage with coffee stains Spelling out what we might genuinely need Hope we might outlive our transgressions Errant dispatches; all the ones you forgot to read