I listened on the county road,
windows up, AC on. Couldn't get off.
Thoughts of buffalo shot from trains
while training myself to shift with out clutch.
My left foot fell asleep and dreamed
of being amputarded. If I get past the state line
I might be able to get away from myself
enough to write. An aerial view
might suggest looking down. The stated line
was as far as myself, shooting the shit.
Buffalo shit through crosshairs is fuckin’ sick.
So is living out a western fantasy in a Subaru.
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