Palouse

on my final run at dawn, my feet levitated above the river bank

soybeans, corn, lentils, chickpeas, carrots, tobacco leaves, peas, and flowers of all varieties fell into my hands and mouth.

With rose thorns I cut a hole into my pants pocket and gave my keys to the empty corridor, 

now we are ready to fly 

I drank leftover Kokanee on the drive to Spokane, to forgive that place, and to celebrate extending past it: They say sing while you slave but I just get bored…I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s Farm no more, no I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s Farm no more.

Spokane

My father confused on the phone, not knowing where I’m going, unaware that I’m leaving

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s