Billy Izzard and the Milltown Garden Patch

Owen Street winds behind a cluster of sagging wooden houses built for sawmill laborers throughout the 20th century. Today, adult sons of former laborers stand on wilting front porches scratching their facial hair, their chests, their groins. The skunked sweat of warm beer marinates their beards. They look west towards Missoula, past the confluence of the Clark Fork and Blackfoot rivers and the glaring fluorescents of the Town Pump truck stop. They spit chew. There is a bar, a gas station, and a faint taste of heavy metals in the well water.