Why did they send you here? To photograph a rotting funeral home.
It won't stop raining and the coffee in Paducah is unbearable.
Adrift, you navigate a continent of chain franchises on foot
hopping medians, circling parking lots in search of dinner.
You awake with your head on a dirty table in the airport
(one gate, one TSA agent, one flight per day)
to your phone ringing
it's your Father "where are you"
"I don't know but I'm reading a really great book it's a biography of Tom Waits"
you're going home
your girlfriend has moved the furniture around since you were last there
she's at work when you land
you wonder if she's coming back
you don't bother to unpack
not anymore
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