3 old women cackle on the
train--
"i got lost for an hour and a half
and he didn't notice. i've told him
50 million times that i can't see!"
"you shouldn't be driving...."
bible study and they lament their lack
of passion, wishing for something to fill
their free time--quilting? painting? guitar?
the pacific coast starlighter rolls north
past defunct ICBM siloes, spilled orange
crates, and kelp in the waves to be harvested
someday to thicken beer and ice cream.
spent the night waiting around palm springs
train station, first asleep with greg and iris
in a rented minivan, then false alarm
3 a.m. wake up with a start thinking
it's amtrak but it's only a freight.
they leave and i'm left to go to denny's on prom
night with the security guard jim who tells
me he tried truck driving for three
and a half weeks before he gave 'em back
the keys. the sun is up by the time the 3:23
arrives 2 hrs late. i sleep, wake irritable
in LA, think less and less of my fellow human
beings as i walk the station, the only bright spot
the restlessly twitching red shoe of a woman
sitting with her leg folded under her in deep
leather seat of the waiting room, yawning
in quick succession and looking around
with the same mixture of disgust and disbelief
that i'm feeling as i stand in line
for a boarding pass, waving a
camera that feels increasingly
pointless, stupid, empty. |
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