on College Avenue in San Diego
and lugged it all the way home
on the Greyhound bus.
Sitting in Phoenix bus depot
waiting room, TV sitting on my lap,
I felt foolish as I watched
depot officials grab an old man
derelict as he searched dazedly
into an open locker compartment.
They pushed him reeling out
into deadly stunning American city.
At 12:30 A.M., there wasn't anything else on,
just that already too late, late channel.
I had known that I would be coming home
but the TV-in-hand bit
was an entirely new angle, and I think
that it must have to do with an odd madness.
Simon Joseph Ortiz
