Take it from me, and just say no thanks
To tent-camping in Frisco on the dune-strewn Outer Banks
Where the wind always blows
And chills exposed toes.
Ditto for feet, knees and shanks.
Camp showers are frigid.
I get goose bumps so rigid
I nick each one shaving my legs.
Campsites have no water or power.
Forget happy hour.
No booze, says the park ranger’s regs.
The campground, it’s true, has a nice ocean view,
But so does the Hilton in Honolulu,
Where the showers are always blissfully warm,
And it’s safe and dry in a thunderstorm.
But the storms I will take
And hot showers forsake.
I embrace them all
For keeping crowds small
At this corner of the cape
Where I make my escape.