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By Jack Joseph Smith
Kenai & Witicha
in seventy
hard
the right wheel on hard
Up above Sault Saint Marie my Bug was going
And there above the snow were a gang of guys hanging
Volkswagon
out in an old dealership five years after
a ten year copper mine had gone so it was a sort of dreaming
But it was an axle bolt and everybody laughed at five bucks
Happy going down from those fellows off their big wooded flat
Three Great Lakes below the hunters I crossed the bridge
Headed for Oregon across the North Midwest like a sightseer
Very cold across Montana grasslands my battery went dead
At six o'clock in the morning they were up
Indian
at the station
They laughed at a typewriter and pack in place
where there should have been a seat,
while they jumped it
and I displayed my mother's home made quilts
as journeys have gone on with gardens in between