our little county robertson 
full of hot rods & robin hoods
woke one morning in 0-8
to find all 2222 of us were
merely on the edge of the edge
but with poverty flaming red
the plate tectonics 
of the bureaucratic earth
shifted and we left northern
k-y to join eastern k-y
on the map we stick out like a sore thumb

though there’s no cumberland
gap or plateau or falls
no museum made of coal
no big sandy or little sandy
no sheltowee trail 
no red river gorge 
we’re part of you now

if you come to visit
from morehead or berea
you’ll see no big highway
no whistle stop 
no factory no jail
but a new school
a covered bridge
a park where the indians won
the coolest brewery ever;
in joining with you
our fervid hope, appalachia, 
is we’re not just another sore spot
at the tail end of your spine