Camper of the Week

New Life Island, 1973.
I've memorized far more Bible verses
Than any other born-again camper.
I'm ten years old, ready for my reward.

The Delaware River parts around me.
On dress-up night, some demon possesses
Me to compliment a girl with Q-tips
In her hair as part of a weird costume

Unfathomable to me by saying
I like how she wears "tampons" in her hair.
I know it is wrong but I don't quite know
How wrong or why.  She grimaces. Given

The prize for camper of the week despite
My faux pas, I, who know more than a boy
Should know about the dictates of Bronze Age
Deities attended by young shepherds,

Get ready to go home to New Jersey.
Some New Jersey awaits every camper
And every shepherd, this world or the next.
Why do I know this, who knows so little?