It was 2007, or maybe 2008, when I met a woman in the desert. I stumbled into her town and up to her folding table scattered with her self-published books of poetry.
Her skin was leathery and loose, and barely covered by a bright sarong; but it was her calm confidence that struck me. She seemed like a haunted woman, friendly with her ghosts. Her poetry is strange and often out of my reach, but I keep coming back to the dog-eared pages of the book I bought in the desert.
Crazy Campground Woman
By: Kathy Goss
http://www.kathygoss.comWhat is it with that crazy woman
laughin to herself
writin in her notebook
all by her lonesome
on Christmas nightWhat is it
Maybe shes Jewish
Laughin and writin and cryin
like some crazy person
People in campgrounds
sposed to make BBQ
tell jokes Yell at their dogs
Not like her
Over there all alone
Savin her campsite
with a 12 pack box says ‘Beer’
Folks keep plenty away you betShes a strange one
with that red face sunburn in December
Too much out in the desert crazy
No respectable woman
would be out
laughin and cryin by herself
in a campground on Christmas
Doesnt look Jewish
Shes a bad one
with her bright Coleman lantern
Writin Drinkin whisky
Where are her children
Havin a respectable Christmas
Not all dusty pants
Hair all scrambled
Out in the desert
Writin in a notebook
Laughinn
much more muchier 