Chip and Dale go on Vacation ...

to my back yard, their yearly trip,

where an animatronic dog greets them,

and hot on their tails,

chases them up a tree so life-like,

it’s hard to believe it’s constructed

of plaster and plastic, some artist’s

conception of a New England wood, oak and fir,

perfumed air for their little noises amid

a soundtrack of native birds, a continuous loop playing,
raucous and loud.

And as if on cue, the cast calls her from her chase

where she retreats into a façade, a door closing behind her,

or the stage show begins, well-rehearsed, calling for them

to chase her back themselves, humorous, this same show

time after time after time, on schedule,

Disney-esque, no Fastpass required.

But for the summer, it beats

the heat and congestion of Disney’s world,

my back yard but an alternate reality, for chipmunks,

a fantasy, fantastic and unreal.