< photo by HRossD

Dedicated to Dolores Deteresi, Mary Morris, and Larry and Patti Miller

Celebrate the rattler on the trail,

Crotalus oreganus, coiled

and wagging her native percussion.

Seven buttons, flicking tongue,

her message pure and proper.

Be-gloved and be-masked,

I slither along the river,

hauling a 44-gallon Hefty,

extract six sticky Otter Pops

thrust deep in the blackberry briar,

wrappers in the rip rap,

cigarette and bottle cap,

Cheetohs and chocolate,

Mango Swisher Sweets,

melted sweet tea 2-liter in an illegal firepit,

pits of peach,

and tangerine peels,

wheels,

and soiled skivvies.

A propane cylinder in dry foxtails,

a fifth of Fireball,

so many beer bottles,

this pandemic brought to you by…Corona.

Yeah, condoms and a tampon—a very short story.

Fathoms of fishing line,

Power Bait, bobber buoys, red and

white, Sure-Ketch chicken liver.

A stuffed bunny, bloody-footed, burrows

under the pocked and tagged picnic table.

Under a worm cup hides human excrement.

A 3-barbed hook in catch-and-release land

(and my dogs with no protective footwear).

A barefoot baby waddles nearby.

We’ve just rolled grey paint over

foul graffiti on the john floor, but

large waffle-prints ignored the warning:

“fresh paint—no entrada”

Seat’s up and wads of tp festoon the shitoon

The baby’s back without her diaper,

which we find stashed in the bush

with the pizza box, abandoned.

A couple approach me with a Kentucky

Bucket and six Seagrams,

which they proudly pile in my bottle-heavy bag.

Glancing at the dumpster, I sigh--

and thank them.

I strive to cherish my fellow-man,

Welcome absolutely all to the river trail.

But sometimes I want to wind into a coil,

Shake my tail, and flick my fork-ed tongue.

photo from utah.gov