mountain of dirt, slide down, sunset
so quiet our ears buzz
drinking while driving
there is no one to see
roads to nowhere, somewhere
left, right, impossible to remember
dust
Doran the waitress at the Starlight from Sewanee, who knows Marie's friends
petting the dog named Sister, so sweet, so buzzed, sitting on the ground, talking to her bearded owner who is looking through old dusted paperbacks
driving in the dark, so dark, so fast, in and out of sleep
Kiva, the bar underground
dancing
tequila shots, the bronze buzzard
local girls in tight jeans and tank tops, rodeo belt buckles
the blonde-haired guitarist, the bongo drummer
the puppy, the puppy! it ate my hair, so soft, gnawed our fingers
out in the field, the music behind me, lying in the west desert sand, facing the stars
around the curve of the hill, alone, naked under the moon, my arms white in the light
party in the desert we're told, towards the Mexican border, can't miss it, we didn't go
leaving the firewood behind, we went so far to get it, leaving it for when we come back
will we?
we were too sleepy, too drunk to make the fire.
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