Wednesday, May 23, 2012


I stopped thought:
                                           —Frank Kuenstler

In the observation car north of Klamath Falls,
but before Eugene, Otto’s drinking a flat
Pepsi and sketching a landscape.  A bunch
of kids got on at Klamath, increase
decibels dramatically.  History over
loudspeaker (pumice or ash soil
dominates here; now we’re
traveling through a plant-
ation of Ponderosa pine).

Is it digestion?  I ate a lot.
It could be due to eating.

We ate breakfast this morning
with two strangers.  They were
suspicious of the weekend. 

But I do very much appreciate the soup.
Which is distinguised by a volcanic
eruption.  The guy next to me has a
very cute belch.  I’m ecstatic with
snow, fascinated by realizing I’ve
lost it.  I’ve lost the weather. 

We’re such an odd assortment,
being silly and snow-covered.
I believe I’m much more on.

Some trees, too, glistening
with all of the ice and snow.
The kids all wearing fuzzy
scarves.  The voice, a
river that looks like
root beer.  Some-
where nearby:
Root Beer Falls.