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  • I drove five hundred miles out of my way,

    Along interstates, state highways and county roads,

    To walk a path 500 yards long.
  • Through ripening corn and August heat,

    Mosquitoes and dust.

    A straight line.
  • A tangent, so far removed

    From everything I thought I understood.

    A whisper of the age when I was born.

    A moment crushed into the earth.
  • Four dead

    As I lay milky and damp in my crib

  • Now I know.
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