Rails

I've been on holiday in Wilshire. just noting the wind between the gappy trees and ice ping cool runnings along the rocks. they say I'm broken, but I feel so strong. I look everywhere and it says it back to me, they all smile back with knowing. I've been on trains. long white steel ones. I imagine those wheels piercing and rolling over my thighs. I like walking down those hallways, while its moving. I look out the windows and pretend each step pushes me miles. and I don't even speak. that's the best part. And I've got three things. My rail pass, my wallet, and my journal.

In Warsaw, a man chased his lover who sat two rows in front of me. He ran with wet cheeks through the town, then we picked up our speed and he fell behind. But didn't he know we were heading to Berlin? Since the Earth spins from East to West, we were actually moving slower than he was. All he had to do was slow down. 

I buy many chocolates and orange seltzers and write haikus. I don't make any friends and stick my head out of the window when the concierge is gone. I overheard my Da say I've lost my head, so I should be fine.