I don’t know whether it’s ironic or beautiful
to put cemeteries next to universities.
Lanterns flicker and glow in the night, leading the way
for students stumbling towards the bus stop.
Their voices are fluttering on local beer and cheesy pop songs,
as the grave lights light up
their hands, their shoulders, as two people
just turned 21
lean against the stone fence that circles the graves.
They’ll change the world one thought, one idea,
one maximal noun phrase at the time,
the daisies adorning the grave of someone who changed the world
with their own thoughts, their own ideas,
with their own two hands,
will rise towards the sun.