friday, june 2
driving home
the giant white cross at
maranatha bible camp,
the feedlot stench of
bovine deathcamps
the glare of a western sun through
jet contrail haze,
center pivot irrigation &
dead brown median
truck traffic —
tractor trailer whine
— convex in my cheap
gas station aviators
we shift in our seats;
bugs die on the windshield
like thrown ketchup packets.
p1k3 /
2006 /
6 /
2
tags: topics/poem