Slow Boat

the engine rumbles like a thunndergun
the roof threatening to break
under the weight of heavy-burdened feet
carting cargo - cauldrons and fry pans.
the woman at the back picks her nose
before wiping my coffee cup with the finger
while her youngest sprawls out on the baggage
and flicks a worn-out zippo
his small fingers embracing a scantily clad model,
covering and uncovering "love".
a mom pulls the cushions off empty seats
and lays her leg--kicking baby on the floor.
only 16 hours more of the engine's roar.

the boat stops to let locals off.
the captain buys a basket of birds,
green, blue, purple, yellow.
the boys pester them through the holes
then take them out, pinning their wings
before putting a couple into plastic bags
and tying tight knots.
the youngest returns to picking locks
until he finds a coke can and upends it,
crushes it, flings it into the river.
his brother plays with a bottle opener.
i show them how to use my video camera,
and they fight over it, shooting frenetically,
until i reclaim it before it ends up overboard.
jamie sleeps and rice cooks in the back.
only 8 hours more.

TBC...

River Continued

i have seen and been
to the middle of nowhere
where a man and son jumped
off to a lonely sandy shore.
i have been
and could see myself
there again.

Those Moments

when you're walking down the street or
driving by
and some one does some thing
and you take notice,
react with amusement, respect, disgust, lust.

ever wonder
who's taking notice of you
and for doing what?