till monday. No phones. Sandwiches and sleeping bags. Unmarked Bureau Of Land Management “Road”/Byway number 37, thy name is rental car. A last gasp of wilderness before the onslaught of choruses next week.

“The mountain held the town as in a shadow
I saw so much before I slept there once:
I noticed that I missed stars in the west,
Where its black body cut into the sky. “

Do we need a chorus slogan for the road?
Choruses: because, as my professor told me yesterday, “people come in groups.”
Choruses: Just do it. (Together.)