I'm just sitting downtown Boise Idaho

what I'm actually doing is hanging out next to Lewis and Clark
there's some little Indian kids and stuff
looks like they're treating a fish for some chestnuts
you can always tell Luis, he's the one hanging back
with a raccoon fur ahead
and Clark pointing
and the other guy pointing, too
they've all got on these crazy friend you jacket
the friends hanging down
of their bronze arms
I'm going to miss the way
of the Great West

a quiet blanket around a quiet shoulders

Some if on an evening wait, and look up and to see in the surprise of a crystal solid darkness through an ice a star alit, about only millions if not trillions of miles from the eye. But through just such a dark quiet cold, wondering here, just further west for a body to live than ever, if such descriptions surprise, even... in a winter a wind expects me when I leave a house. On januaries it blows an ice arm over to clothesline a whip at me. I slap it until my hand is froze, thick with red, and slap sommore until it's thawed. a little chunk of wind warmed.

And so surprises saved for spring.