Scratching West On Fargo

The Lizard King will see you now.

The Lizard King will see you now.

I scratch west on Fargo after spotting a blue school bus across Sheridan. A light rain begins as I wait for Jim Morrison at the back of the blue bus, but Jim’s a no-show. Asshole. That’s okay, we’ll forgive him. I ease on down Sheridan. The rain is not yet hard enough to break the canopy of the late summer leaves. Soon it becomes a shower and begins to pepper the sidewalks. Yellow girders announce the train bridge over the Ashland intersection ahead, which looms as shelter and perhaps mirth.

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