Sister Cheryl Caesar on I-35 Tire scraps line the road like sleeping snakes Sister on the radio at mile 159 say There may be some dignified folks in here but I feel like praisin' the Lord. If you don't want to praise him you aint no kin to me. There is a waterlogged landfill embankment falling away from the road bed. Somebody is calling on me at mile 155 and somebody is praying over me I've been excused so many times from Sister Walker to Sister EF Hamble But a new mine has arisen behind the old filing station at the corner of a vast meadow. The smelter gushes white gas over the countryside 19 miles, the signs all say, from the nearest hamburger arch, a recognized sign of civilization. POEM: SISTER 2796928 Evil spells cast from your body Sister Leisha, God's messenger located next to the mountain acres correctional center in a brown mobile home. a dense forest of young trees fifty feet wide separates the highway from a clear cut desert. Miles 141 Save me Jesus. A second eagle crosses low before my windshield-- a clear-cut bird omen in search of a habitat.