no ticket necessary

maybe tomorrow i will wake up to find air rushing past my face, so i can't open my eyes without tearing up. something won't feel right- too cold, too loud, too fast, too much. and what is supporting my body? i rumble, i shake, i need to throw up! gravel and metal and wood pass below me. above is hard black steel, warm to the touch, and i feel like i am flying.

at my favorite park in childhood, there was a huge section of a train there, just laying next to the slide, for all of the kids to climb on. i would crawl underneath it, wedging my body between the metal slats that lined the bottom of the train's cold and lifeless body. i would whistle my hobo tune and imagine what it would feel like to travel this way- better than any family car trip, that's for sure.

part of me still loves that fantasy- the grit and grime and freedom. it's such a romantic idea- such an american fantasy. travel by train, sing the blues, and smile at everyone you meet.