| \n“AmTrak”<\/p>\n Trees and towns
\nfactories
\nsingle cabins
\nwhole developments
\nnew communities
\na trailer park
\na factory
\na river
\nsudden tunnel
\nhigh bank
\na burnt out bus on its side
\nstagnant pond
\nswimming beach
\ngolf course
\nforest
\nand through the trees
\ntraces of glimpses
\nof lives
\nlittle triumphs
\nwasted ages
\ndeath and pain
\nbirth and hope
\nschemes and dreams
\nhonest toil and con
\ngames.<\/p>\n Time out
\nto visit the
\ncaf\u00e9 car<\/p>\n there are a bunch of
\nFrench Canadians on this train
\n(Uruguay?)
\nI mistook an Uruguayan
\nfor one of them
\nshe’s a writer
\nI flirted shamelessly
\n-gave her my name &
\naddress, she said,
\nI was interesting
\nmaybe she’ll write.<\/p>\n darkness descends
\non a world in
\ntwo dimensional
\nmotion<\/p>\n the patterns of the
\nleaves of trees
\ncrawl like snakeskin<\/p>\n dirty towns
\ndirty factories
\ncome and go<\/p>\n the world has been
\npainted
\non several
\nopague screens
\nbacklit as we
\nrush past
\nto the
\nrock and roll rhythm
\nthat never quite completely
\nhypnotizes
\nus<\/p>\n now the painted
\nscenery
\nmoves
\nat varying speeds
\npast the train
\nwhile high tech
\nattendants
\npush buttons
\nto swing and sway
\nand rock and
\nhesitate
\nthen roll and
\naccelerate
\nto make us believe
\nin the illusion
\nthat we
\nare actually
\nmoving.<\/p>\n I could fall
\nin love a dozen times
\nan hour
\non this train
\nmaybe more if I
\nwrite less
\nand watch the passengers
\nmore
\nThere must be five
\nyoung women
\non this train, in this car?
\nI’ve decided
\nI could love forever
\na couple of them
\nno doubt would be married
\nthere’s one-
\n3 seats in front of me
\nfacing me-
\nglancing my way
\nand smiling when she
\ncatches me
\nglancing back
\nAbsolutely too cute
\nbutton nose
\ntwo pony tails
\ntotally baffled
\nby obstacles like
\ndoor release buttons
\nand luggage racks
\nfixing her hair by her refelction
\nin the window
\ntotally ignored by the
\nguy she’s sitting with.
\n-must be her brother<\/p>\n -an hour later?<\/p>\n I just saw the
\nUruguayan?
\nagain
\nshe’s writing away in her notebook
\nalmost as frantic as I am
\nwhile the other woman
\nI fell in love with since, maybe
\nBaltimore?
\ngot up and looked around
\nstepped over her
\nsleeping brother
\nand
\nwalking this way
\nalmost fell in my lap.
\n“I forgot-” she said,
\n“Which way to the lunch car?”<\/p>\n I couldn’t pass this one up
\n“I’ll show you- I’m hungry too”
\nShe smiles then seems impressed
\nwhen I stand up
\n“You’re tall-”<\/p>\n Her name was Hillary
\nfrom Philadelphia
\nthe guy ignoring her
\nis her cousin
\nShe found it fascinating
\nthat I was a writer
\nand wanted to know
\nif she would end up
\nin anything I ever wrote.<\/p>\n She wrote down her name
\nand address and
\nphone number
\nand then looked sad
\nand told me
\nshe was supposed to
\nmeet the man
\nalmost twice her age
\nher family had promised her to
\nso the mob
\nwouldn’t kill her mother and her brothers,
\nand maybe finally,
\nher broken father.<\/p>\n I blurted out
\n“Is there anything I can do?”
\nShe looked desperate, then defeated
\nshook her head, “No- that would
\nget my family
\nbutchered or worse.”<\/p>\n I paid for her food
\non the way back
\nto our car
\nshe pushed me into a men’s room,
\nkissed me desperately,
\nmoved my hands to grope her-
\nthen pushed me away,
\nstraightened her
\nclothing and made me
\ncheck to see
\nthat there was nobody
\nin the corridor
\nand I walked her
\nback to our car-
\nshe gestured that
\nI should stay in my own seat
\nwalked back to her
\ncousin
\nsat down and hid behind
\na “Bride” magazine.<\/p>\n I fell asleep
\nwoke up a couple
\nhours later
\nsaw her as she
\nwas still hiding behind
\nthat magazine
\nand hoped I dreamed
\nthe whole trip
\nto the dining car.<\/p>\n Train rides
\nwill never
\nbe the same.<\/p>\n Jim<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n Jim<\/p>\n |