Contoocook Valley Regional High School - Yearbook (Peterborough, NH)

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Z Cry old man T Cry when the children I Make fun of you And no one will sit with you ' but other old men. r Cry when you just can 't remember 5 And people smile understandingly 1 At each other over your head And you look at your feet, a-:Q Trying to hide your shame Q like a stupid old man. Cry old man When the only ones you can talk to Are the pigeons in your park And even they don't care About the thought of a Silly old man Cry When no one will crawl into your lap To hear your stories or bother to ask What you think of the deterioration of Democratic principles and ideas. Cry old man 1 and they still won 't care. Katey Brennan The universe is mad, slightly mad - and the two sides wriggle away in opposite directions to die lopped off the blind metallic length curled up feebly and wiggling its feet in the grass I am the river. I am a hundred yesterdays. a thousand todays. a million tomorrows. Time laid bare to eyes that can't see. Listen to my words, Laugh with me. Learn from me. Let me teach you timeless patience, infinite sorrow , unbounding laughter. Cast not your eyes upon my glassy surface, penetrate my crystal depths to my core. See my truth. Learn from me. Love me. I am the river. - Becky Petts C EASTER babies and flowers decisive day broken eggs dyed children searching crying competition lottery of yolk chocolate covered L , deaf grandma grinning gaiety a la egg aluminum covered bunnies smothered in pseudo -grass plastic-basket-lawns heaped too high children high on plastic grass hunting hidden eggs unborn X 5 . X 'X , f 4 f f if I I' ' tumbling tumbling laughing RX X N X , 1 I I f .1 X , everything going insane K .XXX ,K ff. Freak this Easter Xxx p X Jesus Christ Arose S., r Q , f Q AX' , buy your plastic grass today Free! and Alone! and celebrate a resurrection i We tumbled down the steep, dyed putrid pink wooden stairs to the tiger -yellow beach and ran in the sunbaked sand, Ginger pettee Just the two of us. We dodged the white, frosty waves and yelped when one of .them caught up and licked at our heels. Just the two of us. We made footprints in the wet sand and laughed and threw 'y slimey green seaweed. l just the two of us. We lay down in the dunes and let the golden sun run down our faces and drip off our eyelashes. Just the two of us . . . and a dead seagull and an old lady with a beach umbrella and about 5 other people. - Phebe 'Ss

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In the heat of noon I stop and see the trees loom up at me. I turn and look west and see the mountains smile Sunday sacraments have become weekend soap operas for the syphilitic, suburban sinners and the sexton 's sermon is no more than a sanatlve salve for the soul at me. making and mbetween all the supermarket lambs of god Q O Q X! me safe until the next sabbath. 0 , and the trees Ginger Pettee ' and the mountains l is you and you smile at me and say love me. :skis 411.- But l can't because you are between the mountains and the trees and the Sun And You 're Gone - and me. N7 N-M Becky Pens Remember when you ran out in the sun, 1:5-A 'A And laughed and played and life was very good? -'Y'-' - QAAA -M Remember how your day was full of fun, ,Mmm ,,,,-SK-, 'd Your life was yours alone, and so it should? And then your time was used in other ways. N'- - ' -'- ' Your days were not so full of fun and game. The sun was something on which to rest your gaze, Too busy now in search of wealth and fame. f-- By then the peace is made again more slowg fi Now neither work nor play is longer needed. You sit and watch the sun as memories grow, ,fin -- And somehow you may feel that you've been cheated. Our lives begin and end as all things do But what is in the sun belongs to you. An ivory seed of blissful innocence watery vessels of remorse I Q Q I silvery trinkets of happiness a golden weight of saddening wisdom But tokens of life Jazz X Jazz is: a call for one o'clock. 1' Katey Brennan O 5 W ,' 2.5 A 0 g r i 5 ox 4 - . 'Z ,,. 3 ,115 empty glasses on the top of pianos greyhound bus rides. an unexpressed phrase. a jamming reunion. N clubfuls of jerks. feeling occasionally soulful. being sneered at by classical musicians. 1 the studio job that's just around the next corner. i usually being poor. i too much cigarette smoke. l sometimes gratifying. l Mike Wakefield

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