I’ve wandered this desert so long,
the shitty little towns
appear inviting.
Each one has two or three saloons
per gas station
and stray dogs by the dozens.
Occasionally I spot
a state patrol car outside a diner
and presume a waitress-romance
seeing as not much else
seems to be in play
to sustain a single person.
The wild horses, heads down,
approach watered yards
and anything growing green.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney
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