The Oregon Trail sells beef to Winn-Dixie -Gregory Sherl
September 4, 2012, 8:26 am
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: ,

I can only carry 100 pounds of bison per trip
so the flies are happy. They prefer the eyes,
prefer to nest on matted hair, crossed like barbed
wire. Today I am selling bison thigh so I can buy
bullets before they rust, so I can shoot more bison.
I am the smallest circle. I am so comfortable
inside myself, these slight progressions of sound.
These days are numbered backwards, it’s the last
day of the first moment of the month. Someone
chiseled There is love in you into the top of every
can of Bush’s Baked Beans. Someone is stealing
the tabloids: Syphilis Rips Through Fort Kearney!
The stock boy got too close to the bonfire last month
& I’m not sure where his lips start or his cheeks end.
He thinks back-story is important. He needs you to know
why it always looks like he’s bleeding. Last week,
a thief stole his heart right before the Kansas River
crossing. He’s offering a reward: 17 kisses, some tongue.
He’ll close his eyes & everything. He’ll pretend
it meant nothing. He won’t call you after.
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