Tourists
They descend on us like a plague of bees
doubling our quaint town of Ketchikan.
They ask us
if the Inside Passage is a river,
why we built the docks so low,
why we built the docks so high,
why someone doesn't clean the glaciers,
which road they should bring their RV in on.
They ask us
where we live in the winter,
if it gets down to fifty below,
when we turn the Northern Lights on,
why the islands don’t run into each other,
if we all made crafts to fill the souvenir shops.
They ask us
why salmon jump,
if we speak English,
if it rains in Ketchikan,
how many hours there are in a day,
why someone called their Chihuahua eagle bait.
They ask us
if Alaska is as big as Texas,
if we still use kerosene lamps,
if we accept American currency,
where they could see a Woolly Mammoth,
if they should apply the pepper spray before their hike.
(Here, let me apply it for you.)
I would wish them to go the way of the honeybee
if they didn't produce the honey.
That's funny. Especially the American currency part.
ReplyDeleteCaptain’s Log, Supplemental
ReplyDeleteLonely heads with crowns aside
I know who looks up to whom
And who sees what, when I’m not watched
Loyalty is those who would follow you to the death
Fully aware you don’t always know what you’re doing
But correct you when you start singing the wrong songs
Capitalists: invest in yourselves
Warriors: honor will take you so far
Drugies: We’re metaphors for everything
Some more strained than others
But it sure is pretty out here