Freshman Story

Professor Orangutan

had us over,

gave us beer

(to my mother’s horror),

showed us he’d shaved

a bald swath across his belly,

took Christine and I

for a ride in his new Camaro,

cleaned up after Jodi

when she threw up,

cleaned up after Jodi and John

when they used his bed,

had us back over

twice more before

the end of the semester.

Today I could wonder

what he was doing

with his freshman class,

with his divorce,

with his middle-aged

peaks and summits,

with his explication of Whitman:

“Eat! Fuck! Blow farts!”

Still, I trust Professor Orangutan

because he gave me

the seminal

book by Gorilla Chimpskaya,

which turned me onto poetry

for a lifetime of notebooks,

ink stains on my fingers,

and utter transport,

while sitting on the floor

eyes rolled up in my head,

understanding

(though I never did myself)

why you might

shave a bald swath

across your belly.