we were pre-teen girls
two dozen in number
Kamp Kiwani was a Girl Scout camp
it sat in the heart of Middle Tennessee
and we came to learn skills
and earn merit badges
but middle of summer in Middle Tennessee
90 can feel like 103
so we ate s’mores and drank powdered iced tea
we spent most of our time indoors
and a butch of a girl whose name was Elaine
taught us all about pillow-humping.
No one went swimming or boating that summer
God only knew what might lie in that lake
and the way tempers flared as the temperature climbed
archery classes seemed ill-advised
girls fell from heat stroke all the damn time
a pretty girl
Kirsten
had heat stroke by day
and night terrors at night
and Kirsten would let out these blood-curdling screams
though I have to admit we did roll our eyes
if her screams interrupted our pillow-humping.
There in the foothills of Middle Tennessee
in the heaven and hellmouth that was Kamp Kiwani
we never made candles or sewed potholders
we never learned to weave one stinkin’ basket
but the night before leaving,
we pre-teen girls, two dozen in number,
were seated at tables with Girl Scout manuals;
whatever you want, cooking, woodworking,
write it down, they said,
and we left in the morning, merit badges in hand.
We didn’t earn them.
We didn’t deserve them,
and everyone says for themselves what they need–
but our lives must be more than their lemons, I think,
and pillows more than a place where we scream.