by Rick Kempa Alex Holt Flagstaff to Tucson to Flagstaff, Going Home Road, Road away from Home — my parents,’ that is; I had none, unless it was this concrete strip I travelled restlessly, relentlessly, sometimes recklessly in the decade of my twenties, south-bound, north-bound, nowhere-in-particular bound. Bumble Bee, Rock Springs, Bloody Basin, Stoneman Lake : In how many notebooks did I write these names, scribbling in the dark in the trucker’s cab, making him nervous, or