National Treasure

After my father found Wednesday’s
porn in my search history, we flew
west. We drove and looked up at the mountains.
My father told me the Grand Tetons
were the big tits. He said it looking
rearview, smiling like he did in family
pictures, teethy tits. I was twelve. Changing
in the lean-to my father watched
my pubic hair grow. The tetons were tipped
white, the night was cold, and my father
made me start the fire to teach me
feeding heat. Yellowstone was boiling land.
We shared motel beds. The grizzly bears
ate garbage, haunches sunk and stopped
in the road, I took photographs to
remember the shame of being a bear.

This is a reprint of work originally published in The Nassau Literary Review.

Will Lathrop is from New Jersey. He studies Buddhism, environmental ethics, and poetry at Princeton University. He’s a member of Princeton’s Ellipses Slam Poetry Team and tells stories on the radio at WPRB 103.3FM. His work has appeared in Marco Polo Arts Mag.

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