On the way to the Whiteshell
in a snowstorm
in a van,  old and young
one of the young couples had brought condoms
and there were some stashed in the back
where most of us were lounging around
Jess,  who was 7,  was fascinated
by the packages,  turning them over in his hands
he kept calling them poems
whose poem is this? he asked at one point
a good question,  i thought,  and wrote it down
then there was a fork in the road except
it was hard to see coming up
on account of the blowing snow
and then it was coming up right away
and Eli veered
and we flew off the road
into a large soft snowdrift in the ditch beside it
that was Eli’s poem