What made me think and reach out to you again was that I happened to stumble upon this seven years old turned-in homework, for your Rust Belt SAGES class; as I read my marbled words ~ I heard echos that called back memories to the scholastic days that ended И May & I thought you might get a kick out of it, too, if you are bored & want so quick, not even called a trip, closer to a slip, down a memory lane which inspired me to write some poetry, & so figuring I'd pass it along towards origin of inspiration 4 so short a song
How've you been? It's Noah Sweet from Case - It's been quite some Time since we last spoke, though not too, too much has changed on my end - I've been keeping on up with my writing, and have really gone fully into poetry; and this year, especially, has seen oh~so plenty a harvest moon bounty, so it's feeling like the year's all for me to take some Time to make up some rhymes, & on missed Time 'fore really writing, for wasn't being to my self, Real, or be me watering seeds as funnily enough your elective course, in which I was forced, is turning out to be spinning into my most momentus & a ventus full of gold dust, used to invent a bus & trade for Time 2B new process, through which is called Morphogenesis when inside this Genesis of mine covering my eyes in disguise & enduring days that were caged while at Case in a given, set Time ~ was assigned to go И2 so strange a range that is weird, at least if used for 1 to store color cores awhile, all The while old-style clocks, made Up of gold wires and rocks, keep watching Sweet's KIDS who endure Sisyphus grind while, up ladders we climb on which, running gears going through, which tear & rend rind found inside kind minds and intertwined with bird-brain kind who fly by in boring, gray skies like Cleveland's canopy, hanging over buildings that border oh~so cruel & Blue, engineering school who, of itself, so full, so made a science of turning them fodder KIDS they admit to admit to fill a classroom with model rockets & pockets of mean deans using them to crush good men & Sweet dreams & charging those children who're fooled by bankers, so cruel; now treated as if little more than a monkey, on whom which, they test those terrible tools just 'cause they can and have nothing better left to plan than turn KIDS into the laboratory's Bitch ~ knowing we won't ditch school nor snitch on you even though, treated like unpaid fools groveling face down on unmopped floors, & so implore for just 1 free Friday so to fly away, not to play, but as to say final goodbye to grandma who has signed off on her journal's last date & nothing to say, & so took her Time's last sigh on this eve of semester finals used 2 decide both class outcome & my survival
I hope Time's been treating you, both Good & well, and I hope you might get just a bit of suga from my §weet word
A11 the best! Noah
Email that inspired, and so used as this poem’s foundation
♡Sugar☆World☮ 