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The Traveler's Companion
The Traveler's Companion
The Traveler's Companion
Ebook73 pages28 minutes

The Traveler's Companion

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"Campbell's poems are personal, even intimate, but their metaphors and meanings have a broad and tough reality."
--Iron Horse Literary Review

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRick Campbell
Release dateSep 15, 2011
ISBN9781465707321
The Traveler's Companion
Author

Rick Campbell

Rick Campbell, a retired Navy Commander, spent more than twenty years on multiple submarine tours. On his last tour, he was one of the two men whose permission was required to launch the submarine's nuclear warhead-tipped missiles. Campbell is the author of The Trident Deception, Empire Rising and Ice Station Nautilus, and lives with his family in the greater Washington, D.C. area.

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    Book preview

    The Traveler's Companion - Rick Campbell

    THE TRAVELER'S COMPANION

    1. By Train

    When traveling by train

    pretend to sleep sprawled across the seat

    until someone you want to sleep

    with comes down the aisle. Wake

    suddenly, make a show of gathering yourself

    to give away your shared seat.

    Be a flower opening

    in your companion's startled eyes. Be

    an invitation. If it doesn't work

    pretend to sleep again. There is still

    time for another false blooming.

    2. On the Sea

    Aboard ship, take a lover.

    Something in the rolling

    drums inside your loins.

    You start to feel your need

    like some arthritic damp weather augury.

    Alone, you neglect your desires

    and act like a sullen child.

    You resent the stone tethered

    around your neck and want to send yourself

    to an aunt in Joliet so you can

    enjoy the trip in peace.

    3. By Bus

    Between cornfields

    and railroad tracks,

    inside a fence of silos

    we ride through a town late at night.

    In the yellow of her room

    a woman looks out the window

    at the bus. Her hips know

    that Erie is no moonstruck lover,

    just a town where half of us change

    for Chicago, half for New York.

    4. What to Look For

    When visiting churches

    glance at the statues. Be sure

    they aren't bleeding. Admire

    the gold leaf, the blue in the stained

    glass. Rub your hands along the woodwork.

    Think of sins,

    like a thousand beaded abacus,

    each bead slid slowly

    through your memory. Watch light

    gather in a corner pew and glance

    against a pillar. Sit and let

    each beam find you, whirl you to the center.

    Let your life become a prism

    spinning you back into the streets.

    5. Hitchhiking

    You are a lake. Cars are birds.

    You want them to stop.

    Chant and try

    to look like a lover

    they've lost, a one night stand

    on a journey home.

    Stake the ramp. Call

    it yours. Learn to love

    empty beer cans, shards

    of glass, hunks of rubber.

    Read the messages scratched

    on the NO HITCHHIKING sign.

    Three days. Go back.

    Freddy, Columbus '71

    No matter what weather,

    it is always Texas.

    6. Accommodations

    When sleeping out, say

    a freezing night in a rest stop,

    Amarillo, try to remember

    a charm for sunrise. Do not own

    a watch. The night will be endless

    enough. Believe in repetition.

    Because the sun

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