Pulling Away

I have been to most places on the planet. I am living in Appalachia because life is cheaper here than anywhere else in America.

I can rent a house — or ten — for five hundred bucks a month.

I live here because the medications I am compelled to take are cheaper, too.

Appalachia is a shit hole.


The only other place I have lived that is as hateful as Appalachia is Pakistan.

Hatred permeates both of these places. They are haunted.

I want to return to a desert somewhere.

Where the pulling away is like claws I will plant you two deserts and make a third. Where light more than recollects its terms.

Send me music.

Come. Come. Let me burn some songs with dancing naked on just about any rock big enough to stand on.

Let’s to bed, knight. Before the haunting comes to pull us all away.

It isn’t true that I know where Onate’s foot is. I know exactly where Onate’s foot is.