Jerre B. Fine

When we passed Chief Rolling Thunder Mountain Monument in the long stretch of Nevada nothingness, I pulled an illegal U-ey to rub my truth of its disbelief and laughed fully as Lauren read on.

An Okmulgee man saw an eagle and heard a calling. When his car broke down on this particular spot, the decades birthed a sculptured offering of concrete, mud, and car parts.

A Creek Indian Okie born November 11th created a national monument.

Dad, this is some shit you would pull.

The only state I haven’t cried in is Nevada.

Because it’s just so goddamn ridiculous.