A RAPOETICS REPRINT: Boy… by Duane Kirby Jensen
“BOY” It stop me in my tracks. The inflection carried the thrust of a knife blade “BOY! “What-cha doing here. You belong back on the interstate.” Two figures moved around the shell of a…
“BOY” It stop me in my tracks. The inflection carried the thrust of a knife blade “BOY! “What-cha doing here. You belong back on the interstate.” Two figures moved around the shell of a…