A cold drink numbing your fingers.
A small brown to-go box in your arms.
The moonlight paves the way back to your dorm
as the smell of the food in your hands wafts into your nose with each step.
A good night’s meal and a convenient option
lay dead at the corner of the Campus Center.
Beloved and reliable enough,
now gone.
We mourn.
Oh where have the nights gone?
The nights where a late night hankering could be so easily squashed.
The nights where the fluorescent lights buzzed above the line of hungry students.
The nights where Back Circle was full of people
with boxes of food and hands frozen by soda,
enjoying their dinner or snack with friends at picnic tables after a long day of classes.
The death of dinner.
The death of community and convenience.
The ghost of Raf haunts more than just Old Mo.
How many times must he die?
And how many times must the students be cursed by his passing.
Does he really need three tombs?
A snack before class,
A sandwich for lunch.
Hungry students on campus
Aren’t asking for much.
Dollars for dining,
Gone in a flash.
A croissant should never
Waste all my cash.
Options for food
are slim to none,
Most of them closed
While we still see the sun.
Your students are hungry,
Hear our pleas.
We’ve spent all our money!
We need food and ease!
