on the occasion of...

...sleeping on a rock in a gnat-infested tent with three other people not wearing pants in 100 degree weather while water drips steadily onto your face and racoons are stealing your food outside.

This heat is almost too much to bear.
That's why I sleep in my underwear
Instead of that sticky bag of sheets
Of fabric through which no air can seep.
My neighbors, I try not to touch;
The heat from my own skin is quite enough
Without adding to it their smelly sweat.
How much worse could this night get?

A drip of water on my face.
Who? Where? From what place
Could this liquid possibly be pouring
While my tent mates continue snoring?
Another droplet from the ceiling.
I moan: That's how low I'm feeling.
All I want to know is why
Is there water when the night is dry?

I turn to avoid the water's stream;
A sharp pain in my back like a terrible dream
Reminds me that our tent is pitched
Over a rock that seems bewitched
To follow and prevent me from
Getting some rest once the day is done.
And no matter which way I turn and toss,
The positioning of that rock has me at a loss.

Something buzzes in my ear canal,
Making an awful whining sound.
So into my ears my headphones go
No music plays, they're only for show
And to keep the bugs from my ears, exposed,
Problem is now, they've found my nose
All I want is a little peace!
Will this nightmare ever cease?

And finally, once we all are sleeping,
The raccoons outside come a-creeping...