Blight at first sight

Blight

The beggar, young and strong
Came in at Bonne Nouvelle
I couldn’t hear a thing
Of what he was mumbling
A woman looked at me
And I looked at her
It was sad, last train
I could tell she despised the kid
She gave nothing
Neither did I
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Bags lady

Bag lady

She’s waiting for the train
Late
Her arms so full of cheap grocery bags, heavy
She looks sad
Alone
Beaten
Train comes
“Let me open the door,” I say
“Thanks,” she says, having lost hope
“Everybody is a tired,” I say
“Yes,” she says, “Everybody is a tired…”

Once upon the time in Kentucky

Kentucky

I was in Tennessee cruising on route 45, going north to Chicago straight from Mississippi. It must have been 1 or 2 am. I had earlier dropped the kids to their mother in Tupelo, MS. I knew they had a good vacation time in Chicago with their dad. Now they were back home and I was on my way back to work and if I wanted rent and child support paid, I’d better haul ass and be at work the next morning in Chicago, hundreds of miles away from Dixie. So I was cruising north.

Then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, cops’ lights behind me. I knew Tennessee was a bitch with speed-traps but I was worried with work and I was only 10 or 15 miles away from the Kentucky border. See I’m French, I’ve watched the movies and I knew that once you crossed the State line, it becomes a Federal crime and the locals have to give it up.

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