Not the death of you you can't imagine
(No one can) but the long decline you can
Haunts you as it haunts everyone living.
Life is an affair of hunger and ghosts,
And you, and we, and I are both of them.
This was, claimed someone, my father's highway
That rises through the Virgin River Gorge
From the dirt designated Nevada,
Arizona, the strip, through the little
Wall of Utah, climbing up to heaven
By way of dynamite and government,
Mutual explosives. Let me be brief.
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