A roadie without a band

Driving in my uncles truck

Somewhere east of Omaha

You can listen

The highway became a thunder cloud

Pulled on over exit law

Truck stop entrance

Busts of cougar heads

tables made of engines

Open bar sign pressboard walls

Anxiety told me not to hurry

Just to wring my hands and worry

About nothing’s there at all

Whiskey is pouring how did?

Some one eyed man telling me stories

I need to write down what he saw

I know my poems might become boring

Traveling man settles too

Can’t drive in midnight flurries

You drank the kool-aid at the zoo

It tried to bite me did that kitten

I found it in the fields

I looked down at what I’d written

Blind old woman getting feels

Wrapped her legs up in a blanky

Rocking chair, sewing needles.

southern tease once in high heels

Now she’s cackling at my limpness

Turning pages, turning wheels

Driving south a stolen Mountaineer

Heading for those border hills

Only one headlight in my chandelier

Purple mountains majesty. Barely paid the bills