THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT

She calls from a King Bed at the Four Queens Casino, says its 3AM and she’s stuffed full of strip-steak and eggs-over-easy.  Hit the jackpot on the fifty-cent slots and hooked up with a rodeo cowboy who knows how to treat her just right.  She asks after her folks and slurs “I miss you” in a voice that’s already long bareback-ridden out of town.  The line buzzes dead and I think of the night she clawed at my window in a pair of starspangled jeans-shorts, and urged me to hitch out and help her see the world.

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