Bucky, in later years
How far to A. C.?
Sixty-six miles to go.
The wind is slowing my bike.
Draft me then.
But you’re so short!
Bend and pedal harder!
Upper Darby is behind the brothers.
Adventurous, like so many others,
riding from Philly from gentle mothers.
Bucky, we’re here. Did you pack the coffee?
I’ll make some. Set up our tent.
In the dunes?
The scrub will shelter us.
You have water?
The fire is made. Toast is burnt. Feast is set.
Sweat has dried, Muscles ache. No need to fret.
Coffee’s poured. Wind has died. Police no threat.
Here’s your cup, Bucky, bottoms up!
P-tui! What’s this #$%&! you concocted?
Lemme. So it’s a little salty.
numbskull! You boiled water from the ocean!
City boys—Jimmy’s savvy, Bucky’s droll
Oh my Gosh! Who’s the booby, short or tall?
Waves are forming, sand kicks up, a sudden squall.
I think we should vamoose.
Our tent’s on fire!
Get me some water.
I used it up.
You’ve set the dunes on fire!
Home, Jimmy grabbed some papers, read the mess–
He hid them from his mother and Aunt Bess,
Bucky laughed aloud– he’ll never confess:
“It has come to our attention, vandals
have burned our dunes, creating scandals
with liquor, women, and Roman candles.”
Jimmy, in later years