I'M A REALLY
BAD CAMPER
A rock for my pillow,
a pillow to keep warm,
and a blanket for my
feet. Somehow it all
works out. We roast the
candied yams to make
our morning coffee. The
pancakes, on Saturdays,
are airlifted in. The crazy
man who sells balloons always
comes past our location; but
even for a nickel, he's always
out of air. Days ago, we started
walking here, after parking
our car by the river, when
there was no water there.
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