First camping trip since I was a kid.
Got to squat on the side of a hill to piss,
though I’m not sure why I am so proud of this.
Somehow it was me, me, me and a group of guys.
Boys I had no association with prior to last night.
Their acceptance made me fly.


Flames flashing despite the extreme ban.
Inferno sparks so bright, they made grown men scream in glee, in fear, in drunken absurdities,
but the glaring sparks not so bold that they dimmed the cosmic sky —
moonbeams tickling guitar strings and soaring stars whistling in the harmonica’s breeze.


A flashing purple tsunami flashlight whistle hung around my neck,
this was to be sure a grizzly couldn’t kidnap me without a boy’s eye noticing.
Neighbor campers tripping on a plants growled through the smoke at 2 am.
Leave, leave, leave! Leave, leave, leave.
They left and in the crisp brisk of the new day this morning some five hours later,
we passed them as we drove past their camp.
Laughter from both sides as our van conquered the beast of no road like a champ.


One hour of sleep on the rocks of Colorado,
a sinus infection, maybe allergies, strep, don’t know —
my body is revolting against me and my excessive go go go.
But I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, I am happy.

Colorado is so damn sweet to me.

And now I’m enthused to sleep in my narrow but extra long glorious bed.