Parked north of town,
in the back of a truck,
hear the dairy heifers low
odor of manure on the wind
we watch the skies for UFO.

Population fluctuations
and oil is on the move,
Navajo refinery seasoning the air
is it boom or is it bust
main street strolling, we do not care.

Out west of town, way on out,
we go to our parking spot
on the breeze methane and sulfur scent
watching oil field flares dance
is how our night is spent.

FLETC trainees from all over,
flood Walmart and the bars,
floating as the evening falls
the smell of steaks at Adobe Rose
mixed with live music and the night bird calls.

South of town another spot
headed toward Brantley Lake
with thoughts of caves to explore
and roasting green chile smoke nearby
it starts with a kiss and always leads to more.

Friday nights at the bowl
the smell of blood and sweat,
halogen lights and screaming crowds
quaint downtown statues
vibrate it's so loud.

The smell of pinon and desert dust,
and the air is just a bit cooler,
we roam eastward toward Hope,
the mountains just a bit further now,
this is how we cope.