The Truck Driver
he sat alone, tapping the ashes off his life.
he drew it close to his lips.
he inhaled death,
he remembered, they'd danced.
they'd danced on flowers, rice, shattered glass.
oh, how young he was.
the blackness escaped through the crack
in his glass prison.
he sat alone, tapping the ashes off his life.
he drew it away from his lips.
he exhaled life.
he remembered, they'd slept.
they'd slept on clouds, reality, iron nails.
oh, how careless he was.
he peered out of the glass and winced
at his cold world.
he sat alone, tapping the ashes off his life.
he pushed it out of the crack.
he let go.
he remembered, they'd fallen.
they'd fallen in love, trouble, apart.
oh, how foolish he was.
he took a sip of the forgetful water from
a bottle they call Russia.
18 May, 1997.