iowa 2:2
Suppose we start in the middle, I said to Jill, on even ground in Iowa. We were sitting in a blue sky cornfield, spread out on the picnic blankets where we'd spent the night, dressed like the day before and tomorrow in blue jeans and shirts the color of the Earth where we lay. What are we looking for, Jack, I said, shading my eyes from the fat old sun, a piece of the pie? A whole hog? A little woman for a big, big world, and the Earth whispers, Big, Big world, a big, big world, a big, big beautiful world. Jill came up beside me then, crawling on her hands and knees through the cornsilk. She stretched herself out long on top of me, fitted down into the pockets and plackets and weaves of my dirty shirt, and I stood up, taking Jack by the hand, taking us back to the car.
move on... 
other roads...
Back Up...
other roads:
