The thing about small towns: we gossip, we rumor,
we read the headlines and bring it up whenever we
meet. Did you hear about...? I can’t believe that... and in
the shielding light of our bedrooms, we curl up with
our lovers and don’t speak of what scares us. We fill a
cup with sugar. We fill our mouths with it. We
sidestep a train as it narrowly misses us and slides
into the next town. In the noon sun, the dust swirls
and gathers: dust devil. You know what I mean. The
devil is in the wind or the wind is what speaks to us
about what’s important. So spread your arms into it
and feel it twist you and release. Feel it bend your
body with its tug and listen.