Home?

It was as though every ounce of liquid

in this dried up, desert town

had been sponged up.

The ground began to crack 

and crumble.

Charred canyon, cyan,

in the shape of what could only be a hand, reached longingly

for the whiskey

at the edge of the bar.

Tipped the jigger back.

His lips cried out

in agony as they recieved only

dry-ice.