The Spire

Piper Guiney ‘28

When Did The Skunk Break Into The Spire Office To Write This?

Once upon a midday dreary, as I napped, dreaming clearly

Of many dollars in my bank account, many more than before-

While I stirred, no longer napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As if some jerk slapping, slapping on my dorm room door.

“Get the F@*# out!” I yelled “stop banging on my dorm room door”

“Leave me to nap and loudly snore”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in this very November;

And I was tired from pouring my heart out on a sports house dance floor.

I had an 8am tomorrow;- and had spent all night on Caro

And now I sleep in sorrow- sorrow for the losing Holy Cross Football score-

The unbelievably terrible and downright embarrassing score-

Unmentionable here for evermore.

And the simply sad, uncertain outcome of the season 

Killed me- filled me with abominable terrors never felt before;

So that now; when my Big 10 school friends ask me how we are

I say “we’re four and five, or is it five and four

I really try not to pay too much attention anymore

For the whole thing is kind of a bore.”

Anyway, the knocking came back stronger and I could ignore it no longer

“Dude, whoever you are, leave, this is seriously uncalled for.”

I was finally napping when so annoyingly you came rapping

Till that rapping turned to slapping, slapping on my dorm room door,

“Leave before I punch you”- here I opened wide my door-

Fluorescent light there and nothing more.

Far into the hallway peering, although nothing was appearing

And I thought I was going crazy from all the Red Bulls I drank before;

But the silence remained unbroken, and I wondered why I had awoken

To walk out and see nothing of disturbance on my floor

Aside from the dirt, grime, and broken ceiling tiles that riddled my floor-

It was only this and nothing more.

Back into my dorm returning, and for some food I was yearning,

Soon again I heard that tapping, even louder than before.

“Surely there is something at my humble door” I began to implore,

“Let me check out this mysterious sound, I must explore-

Let me find out who’s been disturbing me, time to explore-

‘Tis probably a rat and nothing more”

Here I opened up and shuttered, from a smell so bad I can barely utter

And in stepped the Holy Skunk through my dorm room door

So ugly was he; and he smelled of barf and pee

But, he climbed up on to my storage ottoman from my floor

And exhausted from his walk to ottoman from door

He laid down, and said nothing more. 

Then, this stinky little creature honestly made me giggle 

For his distinctive colors reminded me of what our schools priests wore

“Why are you here you piece of junk” I said, thinking I was hallucinating, maybe drunk

“Are you here to haunt me Skunk, here to taunt me of embarrassing things I’ve done before

Tell me why you’re here and why you smell rotten to your core!”

Quoth the Skunk “check the score”

I marveled at this question, wondered what to make of the suggestion

And after thinking and thinking, I wasn’t really sure

For everyone would be agreeing, that no living human being

Could understand what the Skunk was trying to implore

Or why he came so rudely slapping upon my chamber door

With such a phrase as “check the score”

But the Skunk, so fat and smelly, spoke only three words

As if even the biggest nerds couldn’t fathom what they’d heard

I still was in awe at the words he uttered, and the meaning behind what he muttered

So I asked him, yes I sputtered, “what is this you speak of; ‘score’

What is the meaning of this phrase you mentioned before?”

Then the Skunk said “check the score”

Alas it hit me, twas gameday for football at Holy Cross,

And surely, despite all our hopes, another loss was in store

I could not have checked my phone faster, and I viewed a terrible disaster

As apparently we were the master, masters of losing and losing poor

I cried “How dare you come and taunt me after banging on my door?”

Quoth the Skunk “check the score”

And now every gameday the Skunk is still sitting,

Up upon the storage ottoman merely a couple steps from my door

And his eyes have a taunting way of gleaming

As if he knows what the horrific outcome of each game has in store.

It drives me crazy, and although I try to ignore

He still sits there jeering “check the score”

Featured image courtesy of The Marginalian

Copy Edited by Lauren Backstrom ’27

Web Edited by Zexuan Qu ’28