At Duke, April is for sport,
For having sweaty springtime romps
With other stress-worn Devils,
Near the Garden's murky swamps.
And April is for packing
For home or a future job,
Bring the TV, but sell the
bookshelf,
Why bring lit to Charles Schwab?
April is also for tanning
For baking under glass
So you can fit right in come Myrtle
As fake-baked white trash with cash.
April is for seniors
To save Durham with a beer
Drink for Durham-it'll thank you
With less Cook Out-venturing fear.
April is for finals,
For caffeine and a flashcard stack.
If you're stuck and cannot swing it,
Pay a friend-they've got your back.
April is for deciding
Where to spend your junior fall.
Is Down Under or Eastern Europe
Better for long-distance drunk calls?
Oh, and April is for formals
For getting dressed up to go down
In a pool of your own vomit
And a heap of wine-soaked gown.
April is for Mraz, baby,
For swooning o'er the sound
Of catchy manifestos
That seem to besotted girls profound.
And April is for p-frosh
Hailing from Macon, Ga. or Visby
To be toured through Dukian
splendor
And to see chubby white boys
playing Frisbee.
April is for the waistline
For seeking the Golden Mean.
Between Ritchie slim and Rosie
Lies an elliptical-ed swimsuit-lean.
Right, and April is for baseball,
For watching mediocrity reign,
As 80-win teams get lucky,
And cause the all good ones pain.
And April is still for biting
Our nails down to the nub,
Seeking summertime employment
With any firm but our yacht club.
Oh, this month is called the cruelest
In a more stirring Eliot ditty,
But here April is narcissistic,
And Duke the truest Unreal City.
Sarah Ball is a Trinity junior and former editorial page editor of The Chronicle. Her column runs every Thursday.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.