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East on Montana

West Texas, East on Montana, no stop
As we pass.  Empty road seems forever.
Pass "Lat Gas 10 Miles."  Long since past last cop
Gas station "Out of Biz" middle nowhere.
Driving on, drive on, we reach the stop-light
As dusk fades into darkness, a horse-trailer
Hitched truck pulls before us.  Loo-oong red light!
Three ride, each to the other a stranger, 
In an empty land, under empty sky,
Bored to the bone.  Can't discuss the Arts
Or gas the existential question "Why?"
The horse lazily lifts his tail, and farts.
Gazing six feet deep into a horses ass 
Is a sure way to break the ice.