—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.
Remember?
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.
