info
/
1
2
3
4
5
·
·
·
·
·
May 12, 2025: Maybe the wind blew me away yesterday on the prairie when the sun was high. Before I took cover in Chevy Van to beat a steady rhythm on the deerskin drum. The grasslands didn’t break and neither did I. I lit an American Spirit cigarette and started peeling a mandarin orange. Imagined the childhood clickety clack of trains on a track. I saw a bison without a herd. Watched it stand, another lone wolf, itchy in its shedding skin. Huffling and shuffling. Still, alive.