The times in question being, in this case, the last days of October.
Once upon a Tuesday morning, while I wandered, cold and yawning,
Up the grimy stair steps winding skyward toward my office door,
On the wall’s bile-greenish surface, noticed I a note whose purpose
Took more consciousness to process than I’d had the step before.
“English majors strike,” I murmured, “with tactics I’ve not seen before,
Reciting Poe and nothing more.”
Folks on campus today may find themselves caught in the middle of insurgent Poe recitations. It’s likely that “The Raven” will claim the most victims, but I’ll also be on the lookout for “Annabel Lee”.
The ringleaders have called on the Poe reciters not to disrupt classes, but we all know that poetry sometimes gets out of hand.
We’ll see if the poetic guerrillas are in evidence when I go out on my quest for another concomitant of late October on this campus — sugar skulls.