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The pretzels are dry and the coffee is old.

The map in the glovebox is starting to fold

on a town that isn't even there.

Out past the pump, the world is a line

drawn with a ruler and a lack of intent.

A plastic bag from a Kroger

is caught on the barb of a fence,

flapping its white wings

until it’s shredded to nothing.

There’s no place to hide

when the sky is this big

and the ground has stopped trying.