All work no play

I have forgotten how to play.
The rewards are small, like long uncrushed cigarette butts.
Summer reminds me of being ignored
thankfully left alone breaking bottles in the backyard
The last time I got away
was two years ago, I drank forty beers
in the pine beetle chewed trees of Idaho
reunited with my late teen friends
and my kid brother.
The guy Ive known since we were six
made me hike. He's all outdoorsy and organic now.
He used to get shithouse drunk seventeen years ago.
We both did, and there wasn't much else going on then.
There may have been some hard feelings about the groceries.
I probably drank more than my share of the beer.
There wasn't a guitar in sight, and that was fine.
I came back to Seattle feeling pretty good for a few days.
I wonder how many trees are left now.
It doesnt get cold enough in the winters to kill the beetles, these days.
I wonder how and when my dad is gonna die.
He's a good little beetle, snug in that trailer
chewing on the furniture, the occasional pack of smokes.