herded
into standing room only
we sway on our platform shoes
eye-ball to eye-ball
with the advertising poster
that extols the virtues of a
pink flamingo land
in acknowledgment
there lurks the green-eyed
monster alligator
underneath the sunflower seeds
that crackle under our feet
in the back of the car
young punks rattle the bones
a throw of dice
as a grizzled old man who sleeps
keeps time with his tapping bunny slippers
twitches, moans and jerks
wakes up muttering
"it ain't vanilla!"
to stare red-rimmed into the past
thousand yards
we all for a moment blink
when dark flashes into the neon life
of a terminal station