To Bathe in Academia

Off comes the parka,

Flopped abruptly on the bed,

Representing idle warmth,

Conversation, passing glances.

Then you roll off both your socks,

A little damp with dread,

That pair of terrifying thoughts;

Loathing, Obsession,

Sticky with the demise of innocence.

Then off with your t-shirt,

Darkened exertion

Still lingering at the neck and pits.

Next you unzip your bottoms,

which drop embarrassingly to the philosophical tiles.

Finally you slip off your undergarments;

(The pain,

The love.)

And as you relax,

In the tea-tree mint suds of soliloquy,

You’re left only with the vital question:

To be,

Or not to be?