More Joy

The other tourists,

staying in the lodge with the giant

copper bear in the lobby

and bison heads in the dining hall,

may have taken my absolute wonder

for somber-osity.

Let me clarify this for you,

woman in the purple fur coat,

if I were any happier I very well might explode

or least burst out in tears.

It's simply hard to take in all of this at once.

Flying down a mountain coating in frozen oceans,

with two fence posts on my feet.

Submerging myself up to my nose in the bathwater

swimming pool, as vapor rises

like mist over a graveyard,

creating optical illusions as the light

streams in between fence posts,

and listening underwater to the foreign wait staff laugh

in the hot tub.

Drinking beer as dark and heavy as liquid steak

with my father and brother,

for the first time.

Flying thirty-thousand feet over mountains

which some one thought appropriate to name "The Rockies".

We live in a world where a tremendous, breathtaking mountain range is called "The Rockies"

(because mountains are made out of rocks) and nobody thinks that's

the most absurd thing since turning wild animals into pets.

So I apologize if I seemed distant while staring into the fire place at two in the morning.

This cowboy country has got me spinning in delight.