time went the way of the buffalo (for diane wahto)
I know wichita
from a gas station
overlooking the interstate
a jaw dropping sun
rise over the flint hills
I pulled my hoodie
against october
with eight hundred miles
ahead, one last
gasp of wichita
before wagons west
it’s sad we never met
we should have had breakfast
but time went the way of the buffalo
I would have loved to hear
in person, your story
of marching five miles in kalamazoo
you and your friend
against the vietnam war
you and your friend
all dressed up in high heels
About the Author: Jason Baldinger is bored with bios. He’s from Pittsburgh and misses roaming around the country writing poems. His newest book is A Threadbare Universe (Kung Fu Treachery Press) with The Afterlife is A Hangover (Stubborn Mule Press) coming soon. His work has been published widely across print journals and online. You can hear him read his work on Bandcamp and on lp’s by the bands The Gotobeds and Theremonster.
More Poetry by Jason Baldinger:
Image Credit: Carol M. Highsmith “Mounted buffalo head at the Hotel Paisano in Marfa, Texas” (2014) The Library of Congress
As It Ought To Be 