in this quiet rat-race, we wrote
our way through the backcountry
greeting the cryptid offsprings
of Mustangman and Crowboy
galloping through codeine cornfields.
the coyote-limbed teenagers set off
fireworks by the Culver’s billboard
for an elixir + ButterBurger combo.
we tasted the horrors of Coon Valley
where they buried your black walnut
collection in the meshes of Bear Creek.
we hiked beyond our unremarkable life:
too cruel for the Everglades, too kind
for the Atlantic, too alive for a ghost tale.
