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Sunset in Indiana

In by K.M. on October 29, 2010 at 9:23 pm

Flat as a three-day old beer,
red as a Red Stripe,
and yellow as a Miller Lite –
without the proper amount of light
it turns into an imitation pilsner,
even this far away from Wisconsin.

Stretches forever, but in the way
that feels so unending even Gandhi
would beg for death. Windmills
blink warning lights in the night,
a constant stream of blood red dotting
the skyline, a precaution to all who
enter that there is no turning back
from this point, only soldiering on
through the crossroads of America.

All I know is Indiana sucks,
Indiana sucks,
Indiana sucks.

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