a beat-up old coleman cooler
name brand

buena marca, es americana
pues

from the ages before plastic or
styrofoam

the metal latch still working
name half-scratched

green and silver
dented

memories of youth
when

all was wonder and beauty
full

when, like David told me, you
went camping

with the family, and late
in the evening

the grownups told you and your brother
go to bed

in the tent, then, whispering
sleeping bags

while outside, in the hissing
lantern light

all's well the big, good world of
Plato's shadow

falling across the tent while they talk
guardian angels

flickering on and on and on around
you forever dream

dream

dream

that, he said

that is what the magic of
living in Mexico

is like

for

me

y e s

three weeks later reading him the poem from my notepad draft

my god I can't believe you wrote that my dad had one just like it how did you know

yeh it was just sitting there at the taco stand in the sobreruedas streetmarket and so
that was when I remembered what you'd said
about camping