Here's a poem I meant to send you the other day when we were all talking about that kind of thing:
Solitarily drunk,
watching pretty girls walk by,
covered in cosmetics
as dense as stale cigarette smoke.
then there's that one;
it happens at every party,
that one who just stands out.
so i think about trains:
the A-OASP, the K-LAG2,
the M-WCRV, rerouted up
the california coast.
i think of waking up
in the doorway of a boxcar,
watching the birth of day
through the foggy lenses
of my eyes.
i do this because
i can go everywhere on trains
and nowhere with you.