it is the distance. every inch of it.
every doorknob, hallway, street.
the four million steps.
miles of prairie like an endless epitaph.
it matters. it all matters.
every lake, every laundromat.
the eyes of field mice matter,
the hillsides matter how they rise
and deep green grass, cricket, a lone farm house.
the billboard oozing suntan oil,
digital clock telling time and weather.
the prisons matter, the bells and the buses,
wire windows, polypropylene eyes.
it is the distance hauling bone, hammering,
bulldozing, making change, thumbing it,
trucks wailing horn, boxcar for the heck of it,
lagged and mauled and humped,
to collapse at your feet a longing.