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Riding The Greyhound - Still Twenty-one (from Boyhood Tales)
| Open Poetry #47 |
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Riding The Greyhound - Still Twenty-one (from Boyhood Tales) |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas 
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Riding The Greyhound - Still Twenty-one (from Boyhood Tales) Places on side streets between two others, but hidden, or lost, or just plain not seen except by those in need. Bars - low-lit, pervasive stale-beer odor, eye-level smoke from too many plain or filtered cylinders burning all at the same time, some untouched, not remembered, those drawing perfectly straight ash lines wherever they lay, or yelps of pain when finally the heat of the moment, reached bare skin. Skin, lining clefts of bosoms growing larger and larger before drink consumed eyes, disappearing beneath giggly-slapped, groping hands wanting only more . . . more - Alcohol. Always more. Alcohol She was twenty-two, I was twenty-one, when we boarded big gray dog in Thibodaux that early March morning of '64. Different agenda's, destinations, and seats, I thought as I watched her come down an aisle of almost empty seating towards where I sat, last double on the left, just before the back-of-the-bus bench. "Mind if I sit with you," she asked. "I hate sitting alone." Out of all the other people on gray dog, I was the only one doing what I wanted - sitting alone. "Naw." I pulled my legs under the seat, let her get next to the window, sniffing her perfume as she brushed by . . . Wow. Out of all the other people on gray dog, I was the only one doing what I wanted - sitting with her. It was just after dark, a novel of conversation later, when we pulled into her stop. "One hour for dinner or what-have-you" declared the bus driver, ushering us off the bus. I walked her two blocks up the street, to 'meet her Uncle' she said, to a low-lit pervasively smelly, smoky, ugly place, where she bought me a beer, tightly held my hand under the table, and tried not to look at the rummy-eyed sot staring at her bosom. She was getting old when she got off of gray dog. Older when I walked out the door, back to the gray-dog's house. I re-boarded along with several new additions, and out of all the other people on gray dog, I was the only one doing what I wanted - sitting alone - still, twenty-one. © wesley james beard, jr. august 2011 |
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| © Copyright 2011 Wesley James Beard, Jr. - All Rights Reserved | |||
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easy1 Senior Member
since 2010-05-22
Posts 1209Southeastern USA |
Great stuff... This reminds me of how bad those old Greyhound and Trailways buses used to stink, both outside and sometimes inside. A sad vignette you have written, but it draws the reader in... and 21 is a strange age sometimes. |
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Angel4aKing Senior Member
since 2006-09-27
Posts 1372USA |
I have rode that storm out a time a two on the grey "dog" (loved how you put that) and I too am usually sitting alone. ~~~kingsangel~~~ |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Another memory so well told, dear Jimmy. Very vivid style. Love, M |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Hah! I've had some interesting "conversations" on the dawg myself over the years, j. ~ I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me. ~ |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
very much enjoyed, it's been a long time since I've read you, however, you've not lost your touch for sure... |
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JL Member Ascendant
since 2004-04-01
Posts 6128Texas, USA |
What a journey. Enjoyed the trip. JL  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh James, you've sparked some memorys of the old gray dog...mine weren't quite as interesting as yours, but a story all the same. I wonder how many others have a gray dog in their history? Enjoyed, Sir! |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
A pleasure to read...James |
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