Thursday, May 23, 2013


You ain't a Junction City Boy
until you've been stranded
on that thirsty starless Sunday boulevard
down by the Super 8
Route 40 eatin' biscuits and gravy
strong coffee at Stacey's come 4am,
just you and the truckers
happen to be passing through

You don't know what it's like
on that old odd corner 5th and East
by the livestock auction fence,
abandoned mill beside the spinning
railroad tracks,
Tennessee Charlie giving ya hell--for what?
"it's a Job," he'd say, "got on a boat!" &
he'd go--

You can't stick ta that name
till you drag your bones outta that
black hole town & get moving west, till ya
see those mountains that'll take your whole
eye in and hold it in the land forever &
with the gray sun setting
make your way to bluer shores;

the name only comes from looking back.

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