Issue |
 |
May |
|
a poem by Travis Blair (1 of 2)
Train to Austin
The first hour I sat
in the observation car
peering out plexiglass windows
as oaks sailed by--barren, blurry,
flying fast. Behind them
in the distance, mesquites
moved in slow motion,
their leafless limbs clutching air
like grotesque winter zombies.
Then she strolled in
all lean, long legs wrapped in denim
stuffed into Lucchese boots,
ass the shape of a wet dream,
Goldilocks hair and a smile
that screamed Try To Fuck Me.
She plopped down
two seats over, propped
her feet on a window ledge,
unwrapped a Tootsie Roll Pop
and sucked it. I laughed
at the absurdity of the symbolism,
opened my moleskin notebook
and wrote this poem about her.
We didn't exchange numbers
or make a late-night date
for Sixth Street bars
or swap sexy innuendos,
but watching her strut her stuff
beat peering out the windows
at windmills and water towers
or those zombie trees,
and she's still the reason
I ride trains.
in the observation car
peering out plexiglass windows
as oaks sailed by--barren, blurry,
flying fast. Behind them
in the distance, mesquites
moved in slow motion,
their leafless limbs clutching air
like grotesque winter zombies.
all lean, long legs wrapped in denim
stuffed into Lucchese boots,
ass the shape of a wet dream,
Goldilocks hair and a smile
that screamed Try To Fuck Me.
two seats over, propped
her feet on a window ledge,
unwrapped a Tootsie Roll Pop
and sucked it. I laughed
at the absurdity of the symbolism,
opened my moleskin notebook
and wrote this poem about her.
or make a late-night date
for Sixth Street bars
or swap sexy innuendos,
but watching her strut her stuff
beat peering out the windows
at windmills and water towers
or those zombie trees,
and she's still the reason
I ride trains.
© by Travis Blair
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #9 ~ May 2010
next poem