South Campus Diner
1. It is soggy
And looks like cardboard
These thin slices in a circle, with
Cheese like burnt rubber.
It sits in pans with its withered toppings,
Trying to stay warm.
It’s tucked away past the pasta line
In the South Campus Dining Hall, trying to hide.
Oh, diner pizza.
2. It’s the end of the evening,
And my stomach is rumbling
And I need something to scarf down quickly.
But do I have to get the pizza?
A few slices linger, and I pick one up —
Instantly, there are crumbs on my fingers
And a smell of pizza dough.
Oh, diner pizza.
3. A friend once pointed out
That sometimes leftover diner meals
Become diner pizza toppings.
Example: buffalo chicken pizza.
Oh, diner pizza.
4. Help me understand
Why no matter how hard I try
To dress up diner pizza,
I’m still left unsatisfied,
Tummy rumbling,
Craving a heartier slice.
Oh, diner pizza.
5. On a few Friday afternoons last semester,
I was feeling particularly free
Because I had the gem of the South Campus Dining Hall on my tray:
Deep-dish pizza.
The crust is heavenly, strong,
Dig-your-teeth-in mouthwatering.
The sauce is impeccable.
The cheese: stringy and delicious.
The morals of diner pizza are as follows:
Expect the unexpected and take nothing for granted.
Oh, diner pizza.
This piece is part of the diversions section’s Friday package on College Park’s best pizza.
