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Whither goest thou, America, in thy shiny car in the night?

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The eyes of hope looking over the flare of the hood into the maw with its white line feeding in straight as an arrow, the lighting of fresh cigarettes...more

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Here I was at the end of America - no more land - and now there was nowhere to go but back.

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So in America when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down river pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey and sense all that raw ...more

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I suddenly realized I was in California. Warm, palmy air - air you can kiss - and palms.

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Great laughter rang from all sides. I wondered what the Spirit of the Mountain was thinking, and looked up and saw jackpines in the moon, and saw ghos...more