Northbound 12/29/89
The (Seattle-bound) Coast Starlight is on time
chirped the face-less place-less 800-number
and a cheery thanks for traveling Amtrak.
We rushed by bus across the bridge to Oakland.
The earthquake-shaken depot was shut for safety
so we sipped icy sodas under cold December stars
while some ass's sedan blocked the tracks a mile south.
We small-talked for over an hour trying not to shiver.
The crew-abandoned coach was close and overheated
and the crappers didn't work and we crawled along
through a day of gassy cuisine and farty catnaps.
We were three hours late creeping north from Portland.
The night-benighted train had just begun its homestretch
above the Columbia when it braked and backed up
over and from a bum who had bolted from a boxcar.
We bore one hour more before they found a coroner.
The Seattle-arrived Starlight lumbered lambent rails
at less than three mph the last half hour; we, languishing,
laid our lost time on that lousy ass in Oakland. Still,
We lost less time than had the bum in Vancouver.