black-topped buttes and black top
this heat haze hovers and hums
backed up by the vibrato trio
of grasshopper, rattler and fly
see the shotgun stop sign sadness?
the asphalt surface is melting
old thermometer reads, 109 F
is it this hot on the moon?
old dusty boot done died in the ditch
and his poor mate gone ‘n disappeared
rusty railcars are abandoned too
red line spur’s long sidelined
the Acme mine ran out of coal
badland coulee yawns unexpectedly
from rolling praires— flat?
dry rivlets of once was water
run through iron ore deposits
but the cactus still have their juices
and flowers always bloom in May
mule deer and camouflaged brown grasses
hey, where do they drink?
maybe that thunderhead over Munson
might just drop a little rain
the canyon is lunar-like but not dead
there is life among colored sand hoodoos
but black-topped buttes