There Will Be A Song For When They Find Your Body

For Davey G. Johnson You—fast as a shark, who wanted it way, way too loud— you were incandescent, a flame-kissed tear in a Sierra Nevada wind forty degrees Fahrenheit and dropping. but you climbed California State Route 49 in sun-soaked plastic, an aluminum trellis, to search and destroy atop nine hundred ninety-eight cubic centimeters of […]