The Interstate

Two poets combing the Columbia Plateau.
I cruise control with both legs crossed
and two fingers linking the steering wheel
to my left elbow flying out the window like
a loose pontoon. Between nods she gazes
land-struck at the rumpled quilts of basalt
and fields plowed down for hay and beets.
Father and daughter: cheap and cheaper.
Super 8 tonight with a side of rumbling 90.
But not before Grand Slams at Denny’s
as the sun sets on our roaming holiday.

April 19, 2013

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