L'aura del Campo

Wingbat, Wyoming

Wingbat, Wyoming

Suburb of the Grand Duchy of Redoubt,
         once known as Denver,
welcomes you to winter's frozen tits,
summers that'll burn your ass,
         what some call night and day,
In this bland emptiness of beige,
the only accepted color is your credit card.
         Too dry for flowers.
We're too numb from rumors that Montana's left for Canada,
Dakota for the Moon.
         Same landscape.
         Same cold nowhere.
In Wingbat,
only the elders whisper this once was open prairie,
that this was once Wyoming, too.

© Kåre Enga [164.246]

I made a comment about Wingbat, Wyoming in a blog entry and then thought ... wonder if there is a town called Wingbat! So I googled it and got my blog entry ... hmmm ... so it was time to write a silly ditty. At least Liz, who grew up in Utah, thought it was funny and laughed in spite of feeling ill.

I spend all day the 21st and all day Oct. 3rd in Wyoming. 2 hours vegetating in the great metropolis of Gillette. If I do my travelog as intended, you-all will suffer along with me. I'm not taking my laptop. I'll journal and then post when I get to my sister's on Sunday.

I did a wash today at the laundramat ... first time in ages (I wash by hand) then brought it all home and put it on the line. I figger that it's better to have a pile of clean clothes to come home to than a dirty one. At the present time it is pouring rain outside. They are still on the line. Free rinse I reckon.

I have melons growing in the garden. Nothing for two months and now ... Maybe they will be ripe when I come back. Maybe we won't have a frost till after I get to pick them.

23,898

And Robert Jordan has died ...