No the pine rows weren’t frozen and her red particle board home was glowing from the sand mounds
With ashes rising from the pipes panting and stinging in the air
If we were both confused there again
With a buffalo head over the hearth and her dad shouting from a damp dark upstairs room
I saw a meteor above the junkyard pontoon boat
Drooping in the crooning grass waves I say I saw a spider with an egg sac on the throttle and the dash panel was caved in rotted but the gas can was still blood red
When I left for Kalamazoo
There was a lamp in a bedroom window
But the air did pull me in my dread toward the mouth of the flat magnetic south
But it didn’t improve me any at all
Going to Kalamazoo
If you see her by the river if you get to the Valley Hoosier before I get there
Under the wire towers on her stone in the grass or in the snow if the valleys frozen
It happened too slowly for me to notice, tell her I promise
Tell her please don’t blame me I won’t forget to tell my wife the way I loved her.
