Trip

We rolled off the purple in the same direction as those before

whose gold-lust dreams shone brighter than the reality

of panning water in the hot noon sun.

We had conquered.
No meandering South Platte rubber ducks,

We don't stop for cattle barons or electronaires

till the river towns of Missouri call us to port with song and dance,

civilization and disorderly conduct,

promise and promiscuity.

The mild, wild mid-West.

Dinosaur Bones and tired tendons

Dark ages powered by electricity

Tammy Wynette and Kit Carson