While reading through some older poetry of mine, I noticed that there was I period of time during my undergrad where all of my poems where pretty much realist accounts of the places I have traveled. While taking a break working on my current short story project, Adverb, I went ahead and dusted off this old poem and gave it some polish to tighten it up.
This is one of the few that Paul Hoover at SFSU actually liked, but that’s OK I didn’t like his poetry either. 
The photo that accompanies this poem was taken by me on a road trip to Albuquerque, New Mexico to visit a friend for their college graduation and is the inspiration for this poem.
Passing Through
Navajo Nation:
Twenty-six thousand square miles of
dim red rock and sage nothingness,
holding a rough beauty.
Standing in makeshift plywood booths,
adorned with rusted and jaded barbed-wire,
women sell dream catchers
alongside historic route 66.
In the distance, propane tanks
and flat-roofed HUD shacks glisten
while vultures slowly circle.
Further down old 66
billboards advertise Indian dollar stores:
JEWELRY! RUGS! PETRIFIED WOOD! GOOD PRICES!
All sold by a Real Indian Man.
Chestnut Cowboy 