here in wyoming

flank straps Sharon and Kathy and Tim talk about
rodeo things like bucking horses
and where the strap (that is cinched around a horses abdomen
to make it buck and buck and buck
in order to try to shake it off
which is one of the many things that makes me think

fuck a bunch of rodeos
which i haven’t thought in a while
because i haven’t thought about a rodeo in a while
but here in wyoming…)
in the car on the way to town
while we move under the kindergarten-blue of sky
and along the golds of fields and reds of willows
and whites of snow blanketing it all
and the dark solid patches of cows
moving among it all
the golden eagle
just beyond the two bald eagles
also tree-perched
that we see
from the highway
perched in a patch of sun
on a bench in town

while what smells like piñon smoke
fills my nose
the beautiful but threatening german shepard
perched atop the cab of their truck
left there by his/her ‘owners’

while they run into what they call
the ‘stuffed animal store’ (the taxidermy shop)
and the dog barking and lunging up there
with fierceness and agression
at passer-bys

i grew up outside of Austin
on a dammed lake
(lake tristan)
the lake isn’t there anymore
it’s just a pit
Kristen says

at the dinner table
just before we open our fortune cookie fortunes

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