Class Poem at Cato's

Below is our class poem composed at Cato's in the style of the New York School (you can fill out an online application here). I've titled it, hopefully appropriately, in the whimsey of Ashbery.

"We Came for the Catatoes"

I'm going to go to a San Francisco game on Tuesday.
Rivers and mountains rose golden in color & depressing in form,
Wood worn in fingers and ale-scents of meat --
Once belived you'd never be independent.

Wheel, wheel

wheel, headlight x2, wooden red table
Someone gonna gimme their seat?
Rodney is short and Jeff sober.

Chain links steam inviolable indesolate...
You once fell into something resembling falling,
You.