shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Liz Jacoby


On Wandering

For Phil

In McCook, Nebraska under
a moonless, star filled sky of knife blades
a twentysomethingyearold sits
pondering what it means to be
equidistant from Denver and Omaha
69 miles directly south of where Kerouac
bought a fifth of whiskey and
rode a flat bed into the red cliffed
wyoming east entrance
howling into the great depth of black
that is the West
with other wandering men that
collected rides from empty boxcars,minnesota boys, and those who practiced starvation–
lonely souls at the peak of the high plains
fueled by womblike dreams.