Imagine There's No Heaven

            There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.             How Soon Is Now?             Panic.             Bigmouth Strikes Again.             The Boy With The Thorn In His Side.             Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now.             Girlfriend In A Coma.             Ask.             That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore.             A chapter on my University of Arizona “era” should carry a Smiths’ song title. But which one?             Late eighties, early nineties. Think of me as a Great Big Inexperienced Dork With Excellent Grades. And This Weird U2 Thing. During college, every song was by the Smiths or the Cure or Depeche Mode, and half of my crowd stumbled through dorm life in t-shirts and pajama bottoms, spaghetti sauce hardened on mom’s old pots and pans, report cards blithely testifying to a kind of superiority that was definitely taken to heart, sexually lithe and smarmy and suicidal.             (Thank God for U2.)             (Thank God for the