Last Thursday I headed south to Virginia.
I was marrying Paige and Stephen.
In Richmond.
The bus ran at 70 through New Jersey.
It was a boring ride.
I hate Bruce.
I hate THE SOPRANOS.
I fell asleep.
I woke up at the Delaware River.
I went back to sleep on the southern bank.
I-95 existed for ten miles in Delaware.
I skipped the rest stop.
The shitty pizza was $6.99
The Susquehanna sourced to the north.
It was the longest river on the East Coast.
The Latter-Day Saints performed their first rituals in its waters.
According to family legend I was related to Joseph Smith.
I never saw the resemblance.
Others including Mormons disagreed.
We were both New England born, but now I was entering the south.
Baltimore.
Home of Divine.
She was a slut.
We miss her so.
The Salt alps of Baltimore.
More sleep.
I rose from the dead in the South.
In Peterburg, VA.
In front of a rim shop.
I said nothing. There was no one to say anything to near midnight.
Only more rims.
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