My Heart Beats with the Rhythm of Poesy

-
Nature can't help but inspire. Keats knew it, Wordsworth knew it, Shelley knew it. Poesy sprung forth during our travels last week:


Ode to My La Quinta Hotel Room

Your dressers are spacious.
Your towelage is abundant.
The shower controls aren't too complicated.
I like you, my La Quinta hotel room.


Ode to the American Retiree

Thou long-since-ravished bride of suburbia
Pulling up in your RV with your homies
Your poufed platinum hair shines in the sun.
Your voluminous, light-wash jeans
And bulbous nurse-white sneakers
Mark your genus.
Your husband wears a polo shirt
And is tanned from your long travels.

The young ones sprint by you on the trail
And feel themselves a breed apart.
But I know, thou ravaged bride,
I know the secret:
Thou art I,
Thou art us all, in time,
And there are worse things to be.
You are intrepid--not for you
The confines of family, housework, and weekends at the VFW.
You are Columbus in Reeboks
But louder, funner, and funnier.
You care not what the world thinks.
You're having the time of your life.


Ode to the Environmentally Engineered, Backcountry Waste Disposal System

Deep dark well of filth
And yet you stink not a whit.
Hats off to you,
Pit toilet.

-