You were born on the wrong side of the tracks
But now we're both on the train
******* about our overpriced hotdogs.
They ran out of ketchup.

A grandmother three rows down is
Screaming obscenities at her grandchildren
Because they won't be quiet.
Four more hours.
But there is no way I can play another
Game of cards.  I've lost every one.

Out my window
Miles of poverty become miles of fields
In an alternating pattern of bleakness and desolation.
The lady across from me
Draws her curtain closed.