It’s Trinity Ball Night. That means Trinners students get to dust the cinders off their jeans and hop into a pumpkin for a memory-making night of music, drink, and elegant dress fun. Walking through College Green this evening, weaving through the six pack-clutching, tuxedo-clad Trinity Ball attendees, I stopped short when I saw this:
If you have the time, then please read my poem/To hear what it’s like to lose one’s home.
Poet: Are you finished with photo?
Me: Yes. I’m sorry. Here.
Poet: Is okay. And thank you for your help.
I walked on, but when I looked back, the poet was lashing a bottle of water over his work. And within minutes, both the words and the poet were gone.
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