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MIT blogger CJ Q. '23

I (don’t) want the summer to end by CJ Q. '23

me writing poetry? what a concept

I don’t want the summer to end.
I don’t want to pack the rice cooker
and carry my laptop through campus;
don’t want to fold my sheets all neat
and cram them in my suitcase.
I don’t want to leave MacGregor
and spend days in my room,
sitting alone in nice weather;
don’t want to have nights lying awake,
with no one to hug before going to bed—

I don’t want the summer to end.
I want to move to Floorpi
and sleep in my new room
with the nice gray couch.
I want to put posters without worrying
about when I’ll take them down.
I want people to come back
and mask policies lifted;
I want to cross the hallway,
knock on everyone’s doors,
and play lots of board games
with all of my friends—

I don’t want the summer to end.
I don’t want to call businesses
to ask to make sure
the food’s individually wrapped.
I don’t want to worry
about room capacity
and keep meeting attendances capped.
I don’t want lectures to turn into exams
with everyone two seats apart;
don’t want to plan scheduling,
or read class descriptions,
deciding which one to attend—

I don’t want the summer to end.
I want to go square dancing
without being socially distant;
I want the endless free food
from all my overcommitment.
I want to shill during midway
to the point of being too rude.
I want posters from student groups
and overpriced boba in booths,
and first-years with questions
about clubs I recommend—

I don’t want the summer to end.
I don’t want to stop playing games
or watching random videos
or browsing Reddit all day.
I don’t want PROMYS to stop.
I don’t want to see
all my friends in person,
because I’m afraid that
I’ve been forgotten.
I don’t want sunny days to turn into rain,
disappear and take my free time with it;
because when it goes, it really goes,
and schoolwork fills the void instead—

I don’t want the summer to end.
I want to saw wood in the courtyard
and eat burgers from grills;
I want to do puzzles with friends
and complain that they’re hard.
I want bright-eyed first-years
to run through the town,
I want hacks that’ll turn MIT upside-down,
I want dinners together,
and parties at midnight;
I want things to get better
and a dozen cheap thrills.
I want to be tired when I go to bed—
damn, do I want the summer to end?