i was trying to figure out
the meaning of life
when it hit me like your fingers
in the twang of the earth’s guitar:
one day i will be
sitting, alone, in the sweltering dust
of the crossroads, with the reed-
blow of the wind, the blood
of the grass,
the bang of the silent
hitchhiker looking for a
way to carry his swallowed whiskey
and then i’ll know.
i’ll know.