On
A
Train
From
Amsterdam
To
Spain
He
Said,
“I assume
You
Want
The
Whole
World
To
Be
Your
Living
Room.”
I remember
Now
Not
Because
It
Was
Him,
But
Because
It
Was
Me,
Wild
Hippie
Child,
Traveling
Alone,
Lonely
To
The
Bone.
Struck
Shy,
I had
To
Say,
“It’s
The
American
Way.”
Tickets
Were
Torn
And
Tossed
Aside
On
This
And
Other
Rides,
And
At
Some
Bridge
I crossed,
Such
Youthful
Ideals
Fell
Beneath
The
Wheels.