Here are some examples:
She never thought there was no west left
when she reached the coast, my grandmother
With bouffant hair, red Thunderbird,
newborn daughter. Orange County
was still oranges, strawberry fields,
and besides her husband was on an aircraft carrier
in the Pacific flying planes to Vietnam.
There was always more west left to want.
There were no Mary-mother-of-God prints
on grilled cheese or sea green virgins
of tract housing paint. As I sat on a pipeline
over a drainage ditch river, it came at me like a scream,
like the split shutter-second when your eyes and ears,
alive for once, register each sixty-mile-an-hour engine,
each headlight distinct and roaring into you.