WE DECIDED to pot a goose. It had been a long day in the hoglots up to our jeans in hog muck and we were hungry. Gary was sitting on Chevytruck and I was atop the sagging cab of Fordtruck. We were watching the prairie sun go down behind a mountain sixty miles away. Sixty miles of Wyoming smouldered red in the sun. A flock of geese drifted high over the red Wyoming...
"History Of The No Goose Supper,"
Sketch: Vol. 41
, Article 6.
Available at: http://lib.dr.iastate.edu/sketch/vol41/iss2/6