...in the middle of America. Somewhere towards the shoes actually, perhaps the knees. The knees of America.
Last night I heard coyotes singing 'Come on over here' to the cows, crickets playing their legs for the moon, and the air conditioning humming throughout the house. I laid in bed thinking about the distance between here and home, and how the night air smells like wet soil and engine oil.
Wednesday, 5 August 2009
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