swallowing the acrid fumes
ingesting the whispered voices of tired travelers
growling busses wheel in
lumbering monsters of the gasoline age
"Richmond" "Atlanta" "Birmingham" "Indianapolis"
take me home
new towns new work new hearts new starts
woman with a torn slip
sipping smoothness from her everyday little bottle
casting a dead eye on me
I straighten my wrinkled khakis
overseas cap hanging limp on my web belt
the farmer in bleached overalls stands still in the corner
turning away from my stare
makes no complaint or judgment
accepting the compulsive need to scrutinize
I ladle coins at the plastic lunch counter
ham and cheese on putty rye
fizz coke in a wax cup
not hunger just boredom
a small boy brushes against my leg
come over here! his mother grabs at his limp collar
muffled sounds from another bus terminal
the same people same counter same desperation
another city where dusk is falling like a fleece blanket
a husband waits
carrying the ripped string-tied bags
across the hunched dark street
past screaming children playing at war
only a few coins left to call
to pick up the cords of a sliced-off life
to reach once again for the promised thrills and wonders
the baskets of sweets and pleasures
to endure the recurring moments of pain
the scars of aloneness
the irrational jumble of moving on.