it took four hours
to make the north dakota
line, I left great falls
a banshee burning
through remnants
of lewis and clark camps
at the edge of grassland
nowhere, accelerator pressed
I was light speed
there is nothing to do
in great falls on a sunday
before the season opens
except listen to water
roar in the dark
six weeks on the road
I was the metaphysics
of a skeleton, the road
picking me clean
in an efficient, antiseptic
motel. I, taco connoisseur
deal in the worst
del, john and sol
99 cent varieties
lost in solo gluttony
this is the place we lose
track of narrative, as if all
those dinosaurs buried under
the surface have influence
as they fade to fossil
here on blacktop disappearing
with endless open miles
between horizons, let it be
known someday I will be gone
from here, no trace
the mountains will continue
to wither, but I will be the sky
looking for its reflection
in the grass and the dust
Jason Baldinger is from Pittsburgh and misses roaming the country writing poems. His newest book is A Threadbare Universe (Kung Fu Treachery Press). Forthcoming books The Afterlife is a Hangover (Stubborn Mule Press) and A History of Backroads Misplaced (Kung Fu Treachery) . His work has been published widely across print journals and online. You can hear him read his work on Bandcamp and on lp’s by The Gotobeds and Theremonster.