When he’s stationary
he stands beside the driver
of this reincarnated vehiculo
an aged U.S. school bus
painted bright as Skittles –
hand steady on the steel
pole as he looks us over.
I’m the only gringo here.
Between the stops he circles,
squeezing through bodies
clogging the aisle, remembering
every face, who has and hasn’t
paid, asking our destinos
and collecting our fares
before going out the back
door, closing it behind
him, climbing onto the roof
as the bus speeds down
this twisting mountain road
between Xela and Chichi
and in a minute he enters
through the front door
to stand beside the driver,
eyes in the distance, as if
he’s made a pilgrimage,
come down a holy mountain.


George Such recently graduated from University of Louisiana with a Ph.D. in English, a significant change from his previous incarnation as a chiropractor for twenty-seven years in Washington State. His creative writing has appeared in Arroyo Literary Review, Blue Mesa Review, The Cape Rock, Dislocate, and many other literary journals.