Poetry By
Troy Cunio
Published on: 9/17/2015
Notes from the Promised Land: Drive
I-15, about ten miles outside of Kenosh. Been tailgating a Walmart truck for two hours. Stop for gas at a rustic log cabin with a Subway logo over the door. The cottonwoods sprouting from the mountains like a five o'clock shadow. The dust smelling like dinosaur bones. Blue haired girl with canyon skin frowning at passerby. Think of skinwalkers. Think of coyotes. Think of history. Buy a cream filled Idaho Spud, World Famous, Trademark. Take a bite. Think of the desert. Start the engine. Think of sandstone. Think of stratigraphy. Drive. Drive. Drive.
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