Camping Is To Poetry


Thank you, thunder, for reminding me

I ought to have gone to pee

Before I fell to sleep

A rush through camp to avoid the damp

Is a minor victory

If only it weren’t three

In the morning.

Back to the tent, lickety split

Quick, before the rains can test

The seams which silicon did seal

On pained hands and knees

A much better use than augmented breasts.

Now I lie and listen to the score

Descending elegies of rain doth pour

As my child and I sink to the lowest point of the floor…

I fear a microscopic leak (or four)

Escapes the air mattress–oh what distress!

But I shan’t complain in the thunderous rain

The cool night air and the lightning’s glare

Through which I cannot sleep

For now I think the ramen soup I drank

A lazy meal choice I cannot thank

Means I have to pee again.

Asterisk Bedazzled Footnote:

*Camping is to poetry as incontinence is to convenience.

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7 thoughts on “Camping Is To Poetry

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