Twas a calm and peaceful night, and all through the dorm

Not a creature was stirring, which was far from the norm.

The roomies were sleeping, all nestled in bed

As I lay awake, writing instead.

When upon the air, there arose such a smell

I thought my words had unleashed the demons of Hell.

And to my great annoyance, I realized: damn,

It is not the green eggs, it is not Sam I am,

No indeed, twas not from our room

But rather wafted upwards, in a typical plume.

Not weed, not reefer, no pot is was not,

I was angry to realize, as my nose filled with snot

It was cigarettes I smelled, and man I was ticked

Because I hate cigarettes, and ashtrays are not to be licked.

As the smell permeated from a tiny crack,

I rose from my bed with a thundering hack

To the window went I, inhaling with fury

Concocting evil plans in quite a hurry.

Luckily for the jerk(s) who stunk up my air

My roommate’s bed prevented me from getting to where

I could yell at you, so far down below

(Just you wait, for when I don’t know…)

For making me breathe your filthy smoke

And making me wonder if I’d rather choke

I know it’s your choice, and I’ll give that its due,

But please remember, air is not reserved for you.

When smoking in doorways, with rooms up above

The noxious fumes travel upwards, so please show some love.

My fifth floor domain should be safe one would think

But apparently not, because I can still smell the stink.

Now that I’m angry, sleepless and ill

I hope we can compromise, so that’s all until

The snow starts to fly, and the doorways are packed

With nicotine addicts, who must want to be smacked.

Molly Ariotti is a freshman in the individualized major program.