indiana.
i measured my mid-western nights
by half moon lime slices
molding, defeated at the bottoms of beer bottles
and when the bulky curves
of a pickup truck
began to look like poetic slants
and the spidered windshields
like well plotted
line breaks
i knew it was time
i got out of
indiana
smash a bottle and pick the glass
away from the rind
and suck
pack my pockets with
state bird feathers
and board the plane
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