Dogen, AL

through alabama down the hank williams trail
i am experienced by the myriad dharmas of the radio
chunk of southern guitars hot-blooded
after dirty atlanta beats 
before a mexican ballad's oasis trill
scan past the good word this sunday
we are heathen nomads
praying if you can call it that
to thick and thin layered cotton clouds
and the long, long, long sticky horizon
spinning the dial until we get off in montgomery
to go see hank's cadillac