Poem by: Jacob Stein
Copyedited by: Tara Kari

Long days in the study rooms of Hume,
Bike rides past the sewer smoke fumes,
Classrooms full of sleepy-eyed students,
Decals, of which TAPS saw prudent,
Crowded stairwells
And teary-eyed farewells
The raucous graduations
Of which the stadium
Became Grand Central Station.

Scooters and cars 
Jockeying for position
Racing to the bars
To exchange money for drink
On their own volition.


All of the sudden
The roads were empty
The seats were plenty
And even the floors
Smelled fresh and minty.

There was nothing to clean,
No one to follow,
So how did attendance
Become so shallow?

A sickness had came,
Spread by the cough.
It made no distinction,
Indeed it’s conviction
Was the mindless sickness
Though some might say
The human extinction.

“The corona is here!”
The corona, you say?
The virus or the beer?

But Gainesville fought back,
And with the vaccine,
It went to attack.
Indeed there were losses,
Sickness and coughs
As the bars counted losses.

Many were ill
All while 
The stores counted bills.
Indeed, many closed down,
But this is not the end,
Of this old, old town.

Some say
We lost all the charm
But truly,
The Gator spirit, took no harm.
With fall approaching,
And students rejoicing,
It seems our problems
Aren’t from a lack of voicing.

And while students are tired
In exams, they’re mired,
They’re ready
To declare corona, fired.

What’s left is a city
Stronger than ever,
And with the vaccine,
We’ll beat the corona