Bugs, busses, and butts

The dying cockroach lay

halfway on its side

on the hot white tiles outside

Chiang Rai Bus Terminal #2

halfway to being fried.

The bus was not due

to leave until

three forty five.

Not much to do except

smoke another Marlboro,

ignore the photo on the box

of cancer riddled lungs

and wish that I could

have a Camel Straight,

but they don't sell them here.

Sunday, the thirtieth of July

is the forty fourth anniversary

of the day I walked out

of the last Army building

in which I'd ever wear a uniform

I lit up a Camel straight

and flagged a Yellow cab.

wish I had one now,

but they don't sell them here.

I snuffed the Marlboro out

and went back to my seat,

just another forty four

minutes until the Chiang Mai

bus was due, so I waited

and considered

that bug slowly roasting

on the hot white tiles outside

Chiang Rai Bus Terminal #2.