Zenhain The Wanderer #1
Zenhain the wanderer
Smoking some cigarettes behind the canal. Can hear the flies buzz in the dark semi-lit. oil on the surface of filthy water reflecting worn out face. The bus station was a sweltering mess. stay behind the green barbed wire fence.cooler here, smokin some cigarettes. It was time to leave the city, 100% real brewed deadlock. nothing else here left, shimmy sham. It's time to go, smokin cigarettes. last butt drawn and crushed. throat is dry like the eyes. leaving tears behind. riddance. spit into the canal, waters plop and ripple, faces distorted. Torchlight shining on face, shot from the distance. Raising hands palm open to show no burning stick. carry on. guard waves to go. Join the line like a refugee camp down small swollen path slow crawl moving. checking of bags. only had the book and deck. weathered pen. article of thin clothing. bag of dried fruit. no fruits allowed. throw or be eaten. downed the fruit bits hard chewing, what a waste. wasn't time to eat but to discard would be ever wasteful. munch down, swallow done. show open palms. Guard waves to move along. to the seats in sweltering bus station. goodbye city and the year. the children around me are sick. the parents half dead, huddled against the storm carrying memories from a doomed house. portraits, broken and folded into pockets in a scratchy bag. items of containers on a wanted list. boots shifting in the snow. imprints deeper as the weight of the passing world burdens greater in the hours of the night. no one talks, no one sings. Maybe a hobo hums but that comes from beyond the fence. It’s not counted in here. Here, we are all departing from stale melodies. The busses creep out of their dead chambers like furtive beasts. Grumbling and choking on fumes. No sight of mine.