Dolomite dynamited
for the sweeping curve of road
that extends like graceful
swan necks into the Salem
Plateau,
sawmills,
red dirt drives gashed up hills,
over-sized flags
waving next to gun shops,
highway rest stop at Laura Ingals Wilder
RV Park where mythical pioneer wagons
have flush toilets and satellite 

Mansfield’s
New Chapter Book Store
houses long shelves of musty tomes
settled there for thirty-five years
and the owner checks her free map
of Missouri for cat shit,
in front of Wingo’s Cafe
a woman campaigns for state rep
on the shaky porch
and asks us all to lift 
our hands for the pledge,
I go on in
for the hand-job ice cream
and slip the waitress a sawbuck
because she’s so pretty
in her blue tank top,
her left arm tattooed 
with red roses
and her right shoulder
blade with two white
pistols