Keith Smerage

They threw me out of Harvard in 1921 My name is Keith Smerage, I never hurt anyone I grew up north of the city My mother managed the local inn She saved every penny she earned Just to get me in The investment in me was something I felt I had to answer for Nobody went to college In my family ever before My father never said much I was a quiet kid I never went in for the things That the other boys did I wanted to work in the theater Make something out of my life Harvard had a reputation A secret that lived underground A savage administration Determined to shut it down I attended some of the parties Had encounters with some of the boys I was haunted by my nature And a punishing voice I had a thing for a student named Nathan A thing that I grew to despise We had a feel for each other Harvard could never abide President A. Lawrence Lowell He had it in for our sort He ordered an inquisition Created a secret court The room didn't have any windows One dim light by the door Five against one they questioned Each of us for two hours or more How old were you when it started Give us the other boys names How many times in a week How many times in a day 32 interrogations, Seven days after that Fourteen of us convicted Twenty-four hours to pack Letters sent to our parents All of our records erased Anyone asking about us, details of our disgrace My mother wrote eloquent letters Please to the deans she implored A little bit less of your justice she said Jesus a little bit more But they never showed any mercy They never did from the start Mercy was not in their nature Jesus was not in their hearts No remorse for their devastation No quarter for leniency They had a job to preserves and protect Their Ivy League fantasy President A. Lawrence Lowell Unrepentant and unreconciled They said that he had a loveless marriage He never fathered a child Born to a Brahmin family He knew he had God on his side But the road to heaven is narrow The road to hell is wide Most of us never recovered Some of us didn't survive The weight of the guilt and the shame and disgrace Three of us took our own lives Goodbye Eugene and Cyril They never mourned your loss They built the devil a city They put their sons on a cross I held it together a while But I never found my way I held it together exactly until 1930 September the 8th Glory be to the father, Mary, full of grace Say goodbye to my mother I'm sorry to leave her this way The Pine Grove Cemetery I lie with my name on a stone Buried next to my mother, On a rise overlooking our home They threw me out of Harvard, in 1921 My name is Keith Smerage I never hurt anyone