Outing Poem by Craig Erick Chaffin

Not all were old.
A young man in a motorized chair
waved at the sea with arms
like bent paper clips.
From his seatback
a Barney kite flew.

When the hot dogs were ready
those who could
grabbed their wheel rims
only to discover
the damp turf resisted.
They would need help—
no matter, they were used to it.

Besides, the sun-drenched grass
was so much brighter
than fluorescent halls
and the ocean air so much
sweeter than urine.