The Goal of Summer (2008)

It was only the best of times--
That was all they could take.
But more importantly,
It was all they needed.

It was the summer of singles--
Being single,
Hitting singles,
Being the single coolest friends the world could ask for.

That meant they all had to be together--
But more importantly, it meant they couldn’t be apart.
They were the best kind of group--
A group of individuals.
That’s how they were,
That’s how they had been.

It was the summer of chest hair--
Growing chest hair,
Pretending you had chest hair,
Drawing on your chest hair,
And certainly not wearing your clothes.
Writing in the sun on a trampoline, sweaty and drinking cherry cola,
Freely,
Wondering what all the old ladies next door are laughing about
Through the old wooden fence.

It was the kind of summer

That every soda can you opened exploded,
Because somewhere along the lines of constant running,
Bike riding,

Laughing,
Throwing,
It got shook like a good can of easy cheese should be,
And was therefore was hastily consumed.

It was the summer of jumping off something
Just to see if that something
Was too high up to be jumped off of.
Take a notebook everywhere to write--
Bring a book everywhere to read
So as best to avoid not completely wasting a single moment.

It was a summer to forget about forced learning,
A summer of complete do-it-yourself.
Sit down, watch a movie,
Run a race,
Then run it again naked.
Watch the sun come up over the mountains.
Play every game you own.
Break things, maybe a record,
Run around in a speedo,
Maybe a whole-ass marathon.
Hear new music and blast it more than a little too loud.

Crack open the dictionary or pick up a new instrument,
If you dare,
But do it all outside,
Then do it again at night,
Then do it again naked,
Then do it again all three.

All these were the secondary goals of summer.
But the primary?
Don’t be ready for school to start.