Dig Bailey got up that morning, made coffee,
then took the shortcut road to its end at the T-bone intersection
Dig sat there just looking around. And around.
he heard jazz coming from the graveyard up on the hill behind him
in a place as endless as this, the word existence is meaningless
so Dig took a right
and rolled on
the wind behind him for once
and thought about the curtains
hanging in his bedroom window
being pushed back & forth
by the wind
