End of a notebook

Farewell Orange Notebook in which I’ve written so much

You’d had many holders, know many student’s touch

Even now as you struggle with Winter2013’s three

The end of your contents is here, plain to see

Our record begins in 21/1/09

In Spanish syllabus dates

Yet in a mere second (or simply one line)

We’re entrenched in philosophy debates

This goes back and forth down through this page

Changing subjects around in a snap

Though judging by the gibberish garnishing the end

That was about when I gave in to a nap

Now a question begins to tickly my mind

Why do I believe that date’s true?

The year of ’09 was the first semester

But I took Spanish in Semester II

It seems that somehow I had confused the year

And wrote ’09 instead of ‘10

And somehow that mistake managed to persevere

All throughout January then

The next purpose written was over a sheet

Of data just meant to excel

These notes follow trails of what each cell entails

Though in review, these did not serve me well

That project crashed and burned as that path just turned

Round and round without fruit of labors long

And in the end all of this work was just spurned

Because I realized I had gotten it wrong

And that was just that for first pages seven

That is where that year went

Amidst drawings unplanned and arguments out of hand

Those were all of the pages I spent

The first “strange” page here is one that doesn’t adhere

To the binding of winding wire grey

This page is backwards placed and written on Spanish face.

Are strange words. “Feral Children” they say

Of course now I see that this is Anthropology

Summer class taken lightly in jest

For with little effort at all, I rose to the call

With effort less, it was effortless

The most ironic trait I find in hindsight state

Is that more pages were spent in notes

And I am still amused (and admittedly confused)

At some of the comments we wrote

Very few have context, and no connection to the next

They flicker from pencil to pen

Interlaced in confusion, from drawings to text

“Did this row fuck up the curve” was said then

It appears I got bored, as the text shifted in form

Sometimes spirally, other times in squares

And I guess the comments in back tied back in

As a sign that, really, “nobody cares”

… And then there was Enviro/Micro/bio

Mistake number two of year two

Of the three that I remember, September and November

For that there was nothing to do

From then on these pages are taken at OU

(No love is held for WSG)

From VB to java, from Calc I to II

The contents are straightforward as can be

But still you still hold many secrets untold

Ideas and plans written in ink

The outlines of song, the words of poems strong

A record of all that I think

In five pages that’ll end, and I’ll regretfully send

This notebook to join yellow and diary full

You’ve been the outlet of writing, a record of thought

A most interesting personal tool.