Dave Bonta's short poem imagines what happens to a person once they move into a tent. The speaker says they become "simple and quiet," as if the thin walls and basic routine strip away complication. Rice, the plainest of meals, seems to stand for that life: filling, but nothing special.
The last lines turn the mood in an unexpected way. The speaker calls themselves "unoriginal / and worn as a wit / seen twice." A joke loses its sparkle the second time you hear it, and that is how the speaker sees themselves. The simplicity feels partly peaceful and partly deflating.
The title, "Camp Jejune," plays on the word "jejune," which means dull or naive. That suggests the speaker is gently mocking themselves. The mood is dry, humble, and a little wry. Camping brings calm, but it also makes the speaker feel ordinary, and the poem accepts that with a shrug and a smile rather than real distress.