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