Kwa Taq Nuk Hotel

Once in Polson, my tired father

reels in frozen fish. Bones of

blue glaciers swab the

clear bowl's bottom. At Two

Medicine Lake, boys ride on

smoking capsules, laughing.

On Going-To-The-Sun(set) Road,

a creme-covered caboose wobbles

along compact granola bits.

Cotton balls melt and smother

the Polaroid you plastered

against the sky.

Mountains wedge against walls,

dislodging the gravel

that feeds this latex fire.