Do not trouble yourself about the wilderness.
There’s always some kind of road will get
our souls through, but a question remains
as to the validity of any road.
Native Nebraska tortoise, made his way
slow as endless summer hell-fire across
some tar-streaked highway in 1991 McCook
Nebraska.
The calm lumbering bumper-pace of the tortoise
with it’s hard shell soft gleam under the
merciless sun, made it to the ditch on
the other side - would die some other time,
not yet road kill lump at the shoulder of the road
quietly rotting bump stench with a buzzing pepper
of flies and salt of rice-bit squirming maggot larvae.
A tiny hotel bathroom window -
you can’t crawl out through the crimp glass,
you can only wait for death to slowly arrive
with a petulant knock
on the paper door.
- - - - - - - - - - -
(March 16th, 2014)
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