Classic Poem

I get there early and I find a chair.
I squeeze my plastic cup of wine. I nod.
I maladroitly eat a pretzel rod
and second an opinion I don"t share.
I think: whatever else I am, I"m there.
Afterwards, I escape across the quad
into fresh air, alone again, thank god.
Nobody cares. They"re quite right not to care.

I can"t go home. Even my family
is thoroughly contemptuous of me.
I look bad. I"m exactly how I look.
These days I never read, but no one does,
and, anyhow, I proved how smart I was.
Everything I know is from a book.