Driving through Idaho
A good lottery knows a thing or two
about your chances. Reservations.
A skiff of snow just this side of Bliss.
Approaching Fairfield on the after-
noon-sunward side of Massacre Rocks.
What better bluffs. That sultry Snake.
Top 40 love songs blah blah, and
politics aside, nothing beats giant
windmills. . . . D.Q.? . . . I could
sure go for a chicken strip basket,
a place to pull off to pee . . . Ah,
the emptiness.
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