Gravel road turning to dirt just as it enters the grounds,
fences half-mended, carved moose with one antler broken,
cut flowers woven into crowns and tossed onto the remaining
points, some early-started game. This place seems at first
glance both run-down and innocuous, because don't
stories usually start with the grime hiding under glitz?
The counselor giving the tour is named Bobbie Sue,
wears lipstick the shade of bubble gum, peach nail
polish, shortalls with polka dot cuffs, jelly shoes
that must be a nightmare to keep free of stones
out here. Her voice is rich, deep, and soft,
her hands move quickly, gesturing almost
too fast to follow: here you will sleep,
there you will eat, shower, play, swim,
sing, tell stories, make arts and crafts.
And then, the friendly first-year warnings begin,
and yet somehow her tone doesn’t change,
she’s bored, she’s given this tour a million
times, don’t swim too far out, sometimes
the girls who drowned in the lake reach for
your ankles, don’t leave your belongings
outside the cabin, the starvelings in the
woods will take everything, don’t cry
for your mother at night, you don’t
want to put anything on her scent,
don’t breathe the name of your crush
too loudly if you sneak out to visit,
or long-gone star-crossed lovers will
steal their breath in jealousy, don’t -
Is this hazing?
oh no, hazing is far scarier than this,
we haven’t even gotten to talking about
how to appease the older girls who are
certainly going to have something to say
about how you wear your hair and whether
someone like you really ought to come to
summer camp after all because aren’t
you allergic to literally everything, darling,
you’re going to spend half your time
in the nurse’s office, which is so far
away from everything worth seeing
I didn’t even put it on the tour, that’s
the real summer camp horror, isn’t it?
though, you might be able to catch
a tiny glimpse of our very own
creepy child twins, if you’re lucky!
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