AMERICA

“LET US BE LOVERS, WE'LL MARRY OUR FORTUNES TOGETHER. I'VE GOT SOME REAL ESTATE HERE IN MY BAG.” SO WE BOUGHT A PACK OF CIGARETTES, AND MRS. WAGNER'S PIES, AND WALKED OFF TO LOOK FOR AMERICA. “KATHY,” I SAID, AS WE BOARDED A GREYHOUND IN PITTSBURGH, “MICHIGAN SEEMS LIKE A DREAM TO ME NOW. IT TOOK ME FOUR DAYS TO HITCH HIKE FROM SAGINAW. I'VE COME TO LOOK FOR AMERICA.” LAUGHING ON THE BUS, PLAYING GAMES WITH THE FACES, SHE SAID THE MAN IN THE GABARDINE SUIT WAS A SPY. I SAID, “BE CAREFUL, HIS BOW-TIE IS REALLY A CAMERA.” “TOSS ME A CIGARETTE, I THINK THERE'S ONE IN MY RAINCOAT.” “WE SMOKED THE LAST ONE AN HOUR AGO.” SO I LOOKED AT THE SCENERY, SHE READ HER MAGAZINE, AND THE MOON ROSE OVER AN OPEN FIELD. “KATHY, I'M LOST,” I SAID, THOUGH I KNEW SHE WAS SLEEPING. “I'M EMPTY, AND ACHING AND I DON'T KNOW WHY.” COUNTING THE CARS ON THE NEW JERSEY TURNPIKE. THEY'VE ALL COME TO LOOK FOR AMERICA, ALL COME TO LOOK FOR AMERICA, ALL COME TO LOOK FOR AMERICA