It was a slow, massive roar. A dense wall-of-sound that couldn't possibly be made by one person, no matter how many microphones were hooked up to how many speakers. A scratchy, grainy blend of ... [+]
Murmurations
Of rippling ribbons
Against rain-full skies
Above the stubble fields
Of slump-shouldered towns
Where restaurant dining
Is fries in paper bags
And shopping consists
Of convenience store trips.
There, the main allure,
Aladdin's magic lamp,
Is the Interstate sign
Pointing the way out.