Yell: A Bro Tribute to Allen Ginsberg’s ‘Howl’


For the Lost Brothers

I have seen the most awesome bras’ of my frat  pummeled by some crazy shit, all bug-eyed, having to take the bus into to the hood to score some roids,

Man pretty brosefs trying to kick it old school on a campus full of posers,

Who hung-over and their allowance cut and their most kick ass hat stolen and blown out of their minds sat playing Madden ’09,

Who tripped on shrooms and saw the Cowboy’s offensive line acting shady on top of the dorm glowing,

Who never went to class not stoned in some stuck up liberal town with asshole profs,

Who got kick out of one college after the next for partying too much and breaking shit,

Who were sloths smelling like b.o. deleting porn from their computer listening to their dorm-mate and his girlfriend going at it,

Who got kicked in their nutz for stealing booze from the sorority house,

Who blacked out in Vegas or spring breaked in Cancun, died or went to the ER every semester,

With career goals, with chicks, with booze, with hazing rush and pledges and endless games of beer pong,

Can’t see with minds all messed up the flashing lights caught between Home and Atlantic City lighting up your dorm,

Hangover holiday of cafeterias, intramural field at sunrise, Natie Ice vomit over balconies, main drag driving after nights of drinking, waking up on Sunday on the cold cool quad,

Who  roadtriped from Louisville to Chicago jacked up on Red Bull until hitting a deer broken down dead in bumbleville drained of thought in the light of the Piggy Wiggly parking lot,