The snow buzzes in the Ritalin air beneath Dairy Queen clouds, the return of the frozen ghosts of AM signals that bounced away into summer nights, breaking into streaks the glow of the giant yellow pills that line the horizon, buzzing like the end of remembering, the rattle and going under.
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flurries.
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Deep, dark, lush, spare and all the dichotomies that make up a good poem
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Interstate Ten between Van Horn and San Antonio? Feels like it. Resonated with me.
I'm there.
nice. thanks very much for the reads and comments and faves.
snow flurries ringed round with insomnia traces.
Stephen: Chock full of thought. For example". . . the end of remembering . . ." My Dairy Queen will never be the same! *