A POEM - OH, THE CHEAP BASTARD HAS DONE IT AGAIN

OH, THE CHEAP BASTARD HAS DONE IT AGAIN
The days were sunny and warm,
Those mountain paradise days.
I’d hike in the morning
And write and lounge in the afternoons.
The evenings were cool, pleasantly so.
But the nights,
They were mean and cold
and whatever I did,
I couldn’t keep the goddamn blankets
From sliding off my nylon sleeping bag.
I’d wake every hour or so,
Shivering and coughing and sniffling,
And look into the darkness of the bunk dorm,
Look around until my eyes adjusted,
And I’d say to myself,
“all right, all right.
Tomorrow night I’ll pay the extra cash
for a room of my own with a little heat.”
But I never did.
Because the days were sunny and warm,
Those mountain paradise days,
And the evenings were only cool,
And pleasantly so.
It wasn’t until I’d get back into my sleeping bag,
Late in the night,
After finishing with my writing,
That I’d say to myself,
“oh, you bastard. You’ve done it again.”