Paul Baker

I am 25 years old and this is my second attempt at college. My first attempt was seven years ago when I was 18 and I attended Eastern Kentucky University for a semester and a "half." I dropped out before midterms of my second semester to avoid getting a bunch of failing grades on my record and enlisted in the Navy where I served as a Corpsman (medic) with the Marines for five years. Now I'm out and going to school for free, which is a pretty good deal.

My process for writing this poem was a lot of typing and deleting. I experienced a bit of a writers block on this assignment and eventually just accepted that it would be a bad poem and forced out some lines. The essence of most of my friendships over the past five years has been that of friendly bantering and criticism, so the poem has a bit of a badgering flavor at the end when I make fun of Greg for being a smug bastard, and more so for his secret enjoyment of being classified as smug.

Ol’ Greg,

I miss our conversations on politics and philosophy,

Sitting on the balcony smoking cheap cigars,

Arguing about matters of deep import

Like a couple of stoners.

I miss the parties we hosted in our crappy apartment,

Squeezed into a tiny kitchen to play beerpong,

Drunkenly singing “Red Solo Cup,”

And trying our best to get the cops called on us again.

I miss the infectious enthusiasm

With which you live your life,

And the poorly hidden smirk of pleasure on your face

When we’d call you a smug bastard.

I miss you buddy, and wish you the best; 

No roommate, pong-partner, or friend has yet compared.