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Sunspot Boulevard
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First of all, the damned thing leaked all weekend,
Even when it wasn’t raining—one drip
Off the nearest pin oak was enough to cue
The flood alarm. And when it was time to leave—
Well, besides the Gatling gun raindrops, which
Must have been at the very least of the 0.50 caliber
Variety, a spanking breeze playing second fiddle
To the rain made sure we were pelted by leaves,
Twigs, very small rocks, and the occasional wood louse.
At least we didn’t have to take the tent down—
The wind did that for us—but we did have to
Chase it three miles through the underbrush,
Billowing like a spook in a Washington Irving legend,
And when we caught it, Lefty mistook a clump
Of poison oak for a tent peg. Sopping wet, chilled
To the bone, mud-encrusted, we jumped into
The inflatable rubber dingy we used for an air mattress—
Our only smart move of the entire trip, by the way—
And paddled our way through the mud flats
Back to our car. Thank God we shut the moon roof
Before we left. Oh, and you want to guess
When the sun finally came out again? Not knowing
What else to do, we tied the tent to the roof racks
And tried to air-dry the thing on the way home,
A cunning plan that actually worked fairly well,
But it played hell with our gas mileage, because
At highway speeds the tent billowed out like
The parachute on a drag racer. Next time, you
Can get back to Nature—I’ll let Nature get back to me.
ROBERT DUNN
the Executive Editor of Medicinal Purposes Literary Review and the host of the Poet
to Poet cable television show. His work has appeared in such
publications as Krax, Imago, Mobius, Rattapallax, Nomad’s Choir, Critical
Perspectives in Accounting, and Pegasus. His full-length collections of
poetry include Zen Yentas in Bondage, Guilty as Charged (Cross-Cultural
Literary Editions, Inc., Merrick NY), Playing in Traffic (Founders Hill Press,
Prescott AZ), and Sunspot Boulevard (Xlibris, Philadelphia PA).
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