Rudiments of Higher Education

There is a haunting familiarity
About the room,
And a flavor to the mess
That spurs memories
From my college days.
Furniture is scarce,
And material possessions
Are few, if any.
Bits and pieces
Of homework
Are strewn about,
And mounds
Of dirty clothing
Wait for someone
To launder.
The room is tiny,
Even by dormitory standards ,
Yet two nearly grown men
Are cramped inside
With barely a place to sit.
What I am observing
Are the rudiments
Of higher education
Compounded with
A crash course
In basic domestic skills.
It’s a program
From which
Some guys
Will never graduate.