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Ode to BOLT
by Rachel Brett
I’m woken before the sun’s barely rose
By a beep and an assault on my nose
Five days in the woods with no shower
And I surely don’t smell like a flower
And crammed in to a tarp with nine friends
This odor upon me descends
But though my scent is quite foul
I just smile and pick up my trowel
And skip off to dig a nice hole
Using leaves as my TP roll
Then I skip back and take a big chug
From the congealed pasta water in my mug
All day long I hike with my pack
Weighing 300 pounds on my back
When we see other schools or groups
We all let loose with great whoops
And we’ve painted our faces with dirt
And luckily no one’s real hurt
Though we’ve written 94 incident reports
And we’re sweating right through our shorts
And I don’t care what’s for dinner tonight
Because peanut butter goes with anything, right?
And our tarps and bear bags are so good
That all of the trees in the wood
Bow down to us in our splendor
And just before I surrender
To sleep, I think back and I smile
Because I’m livin’ it up, BOLT style! |
