Before the Internet

by Troy Schoultz

The hallway water fights would escalate into live fireworks
And barricaded dorm rooms seeping with smoke.
The cops would be called a few times.
Later that night, after fifty cent tappers,
And drunken pick-up lines rejected,
And finals waiting at 11am,
We’d hijack the campus parking enforcement truck
For a Mister Donut run,
And goddamn didn’t the fritters
Leave that unmistakable coating in your mouth,
And goddamn didn’t the woman behind the counter
Have hair like thick, glorious flame, and goddamn
How the white-hot moon
Smiled down on our stupid-asses with promise.

Troy Schoultz is a poet and analog collage artist who makes his home in Oshkosh, WI. He’s published extensively in the U.S. and U.K. since 1999. He is the author of three full-length collections and two chapbooks. He is currently working on his first novel.