Vol. 2, No. 3: The Goal Line Extends Through Infinity photo

River RoadNatalie Hopper

River Road isn’t River Road anymore,

And that grass expanse is a proper parking lot.

No one would dream now

Of eating fried chicken and canned beans there

On the oversized trunk of an oversized Oldsmobile

Before starting the mile-long walk

You always knew I wasn’t going to finish.

Somewhere around the quad I’d ask

The question that you dreaded.

You’d groan that I was too big for this shit

But lift me over your head all the same.


We walked miles on Saturdays,

Across campus and up spiral ramps,

To seats that required binoculars,

But you always splurged for a program,

Hotdogs, and Cokes in souvenir cups.

I gave you hell about the cheap seats,

Parking so far away,

And only ever seeing three quarters of a game,

But you knew where the value was:

So we never rushed our pre-game picnic

And always left before the post-game traffic could catch us.