New Mexico is where bananas go to die

…and diesel engines. But thank god for my mechanically inclined step-dad who managed to fix it, but who also just smashed my elbow in between the back seat and truck frame. The past two days I’ve been up since 5 am with spotty sleep. Part of me wants to curl up on the black top and start crying next to the used tamale husk and massacred ketchup packet.
The river. Long gone and I’ll have to write about pulling one of our rafters from a rapid, the adrenaline, exhaustion and peace another time. We’ve had no moments of rest, many beers and multiplied miles sitting in our guts. Willie Nelson lyrics over the stereo parallel our lives: on the road again/another pee break and I’ll bash your head right in/ can’t you tell we’re on the road again.

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2 Responses to New Mexico is where bananas go to die

  1. Ms. Moon says:

    Sounds…exciting?

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