wake up to cups of
cowboy coffee
ride alongside golden-tipped long grass
lit up with sun
stop for gas in Erskine
where men stop for bottles
at the liquor store
before noon
he warned me the ride through
North Dakota
would be flat
and
boring
freshly shorn fields run out under the sky
whenever the wind shoves my front wheel
into an angle
I push and pull on the handlebars
to bring the bike back up
straight
I am counting
layers of clothes
still packed in the luggage
strapped behind me
I’m startled when
2 slender does
bound across the road
signs are
rare
and more of
a courtesy;
self-evident.
stop at Devil’s Lake
for a cherry coke
that burns going down
originally known as Ble Waka Sica
Lake of the Spirits
I wonder who the spirits are
breaks my heart to learn
child sexual abuse is
“endemic”
on the Spirit Lake reservation
the billboards are direct
“What this town needs
is more caps and gowns.”
and
“God Bless Mommy
for having me.”
the land opens for
swaths of water
royal blue or silver
depending on
the sun’s influence
thick flocks of birds
take over the sky
pass Rugby:
The Geographic Center of North America
pitch my tent
next to a toad
by Mouse River
north of Towner
hear an owl
in the distance
other birds call
to one another
as evening descends
ration out water
enough for modest portions
of coffee and oatmeal
for the morning
use the rest for
a half cup of chamomile tea
brushing my teeth
is less important tonight
than it was last night
wake up at midnight
to a rainstorm.