Saturday, June 06, 2009

Wilson Creek Gorge(d) On Humans

Wilson Creek Gorge(d) on Humans
copyright 2009
By
James Robert Smith



Easy access via roads,
the rednecks arrive
by the
thousands.
They pack the two miles of Wilson Creek
that are the most rugged,
the most beautiful
that are not privately owned.

They gather like troops of apes.

Big-bellied biker bitches
with their tits hanging out
of size four bathing suits
pulled lard-tight around
size sixteen torsos.

Beauty as only the USA can produce it.

Tattooed shit-kickers,
some skinny, some fat,
all stupid,
their stomachs full of cheap America beer
and cut-rate
colas
from Wal-Mart.

Something called "Dr. Thunder". The cans were left all along the river.

Noise everywhere.
Motorcars and four-wheel drive
trucks
and jeeps tearing
up and down
the one-lane road.
Only the constant presence of the Sheriff’s deputies
keep them in line
and their occupants out of the
morgues.

One of jillions of abandoned trashpiles along the creek.

Screaming country boys hooting
like
the naked apes they are.
Their ugly redneck women
screeching
in kind.
They set up temporary camps
on the rocks,
on the beaches,
with campfires and plastic bags packed
with bad food and bad drinks.

By nightfall, they’re mostly gone.
They leave their filthy trash behind.
Their shitpiles of feces can be smelled
around the edges of the woods,

toilet paper smeared brown and black
blowing in the wind.
That pit toilet you saw?
Don't go in there.
For God's sake,
don't go in there.

Don't need that towel anymore? Leave it in the middle of Wilson Creek.

Ah, Wilson Creek,
I would like to sing the praises
of your natural beauty.
I would like to announce the spectacular cascades
and the huge boulders of white and

gold.
I would love to tell about the steep slopes
sweeping down to the rushing water
so
crystal clear one could drink it down
were it not for the redneck shitpiles
steaming along your shores.

The local scum laugh at the rules.

Wilson Creek Gorge
gorged with humans,
The too-many, the lowest of the low,
the ignorant, the destructive,
the
uncaring, the stinking, the loud,
the unfortunately-not-few,
my fellow Humans.

Maybe the Marines will take you.

2 comments:

GULAHIYI said...

Nice poem. I enjoy reading your Wilson Creek posts because I used to hang out there in the 1970s. It wasn't overrun then like it is now. Taking that long drive to Mortimer (and Globe) was like going back in time. I have fond memories of that area.

HemlockMan said...

Thanks.

The pack themselves in there because that 2.2-mile stretch of the Gorge is the most beautiful, and because so much more of the river is inaccessible due to private land issues.

As long as you don't go on the weekends, it's okay.