Sonnet 130, But I’m Stuck Inside My Apartment
by The Cowl Editor on February 11, 2022
by Sarah McLaughlin ’23
The gray Nor’easter clouds block out the sun,
And biting winds turn all our faces red.
For one day, the snow’s white, the weekend’s fun,
The mattresses are dragged outside as sleds.
But frostbite stings, snow turns to gray from white;
Even hot chocolate from Dunks can’t warm our cheeks.
Trash littered on Guz Hill brings no delight
(It’s hard enough to keep our campus clean).
The weekend’s over, and so to class I go,
The crunch of ice an ever-present sound.
It’s dangerous, I must take care, I know—
But snow boots fail, and I end up on the ground.
On top of all of this, I just got dumped.
Tell Eliot February’s the cruelest month.
by The Cowl Editor on October 10, 2019
by Gabriela Baron ’20
I can’t believe that you did that to her.
You wore a mask of false integrity.
She was a captive, now unleashed from “sir”
Yet sinking back into naiveté.
The door is open, but she stays inside.
The birds are singing but she cannot hear.
I still don’t know where she wants to reside
She has no home, a lonely bright-eyed deer.
One day will come that she begins to change,
I hope the hands move faster around the clock
So she can be awake and estrange
Herself from him, unlatch the door, break the lock
Just as the hatchlings will learn to take their flight
Just as the sun rises to bring daylight.