Dozens of casual hikers huddle beneath
a bus-stop shelter in Rocky Mountain
National Park. They have pulled peaks
and streams through their lifted and lowered eyes,
inhaled what they could, descended with rain on their hats.
Now crowded together, eyes enforce the shuttle line.
In a mediocre pub on Market in downtown drudgery,
the young and drunk prove their age. Still raining.
Those who must, drink and dance. Those
who can’t, drink and talk. A conversation:
“A man in South Carolina was arrested for buggery.”
“What’s buggery?” “A camera caught him penetrating
a caramel pony with a blond-mane named Rose.
Rose’s owner had noticed ‘suspicious infections’.”
