Different Slants

Seeing the World from a New Angle

Terminal Cafe: Coffin Nails and Java…by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Depression and Hope,Friendship & Compassion,Life & Death,My Own Personal Hell,Retail Purgatory,Travel — Bob at 9:56 am on Thursday, August 9, 2012

By Robert M. Katzman © August 8, 2012  

Amarillo Diner

Solitary Truck Stop

A ragged rusty sign with

Every other letter

Blackened, broken and dead

Like missing neon teeth

Lazy smoke drifting sideways

Out of a pipe

Poking through an

Ancient corrugated

Tin roof

Trucks pointing

East and West

Both sides of the blacktop

Coming from and going to

One hundred miles of nothing

Hairy black Tarantulas

Crawling across the

Molten blacktop

Bleached cow skulls

Casually resting on

The side of the road

Hot sirocco wind

Blowing past

A Sagebrush canteen

The men drift in

Seeking shelter and coffee

Dottie and Karl

One cooks, one serves

A hyphenated couple

In an endless sentence

Serving sullen men

As day drifts into night

Cracked boots and big belt buckles

Black leather wallets chained to thick leather belts

Marlboros and Camels

Tucked into tight corners of

Parched cracked lips

American Truck Drivers

Jeans sagging

They park themselves on

Spinning diner stools

Flashing the hairy

Cracks in their ass

For all to admire

Dottie brings coffee

Dottie brings eggs

Karl burns the toast

Heaps on the hash browns

Not much conversation

In the Terminal Cafe

Men, fleshy men

Slap their log books on the counter

Stare soullessly at the

Greasy griddle

Sip their coffee

Greedily inhale burning tobacco

Grey ash falling on

Their bulging bellies

And, so what?

Big nation

Small diner

Regular crowd

When there’s half a dozen

Grizzled guys gathered

Old Dottie unbuttons

A few buttons

To thrill the guys

Her sagging Valley of Death

Tits for tips

She smiles, flashing

The Truckers cry in unison

“Oh, Dottie, no!

Button up!

Damn road’s scary enough!”

Everyone laughs

Even Karl

Not much else

To break the silence

Or entertain

This center of nothin’

Smokey Texas Playhouse

Empty plates

Good tips

No one screws Dottie

Or not like they used to

When once a look from her

Sly Lizard eyes

Raced their Dieseling hearts

Time to shove off

They hit the can

One more steaming piss

And out the door

Dottie and Karl

Wave goodbye

The Diner’s rusty spring

Slams the door shut

Making the damn Horseflies

Fight their way in

Bellies full

Motors rumble

Gears grind

Black exhaust belching

Tired eyes

Peering into oblivion

Red tail lights

Shrinking smaller in the night

Someone’s waiting

Time is ticking

Forever behind schedule

18-Wheeled ships

Passing in the desert

Yeah, brother

Hell has messengers

Breathing and blowing smoke

Never enough time

Never enough money

American Truckers

Too much freight

On their shoulders

Missing families

On their minds

They hit their

Laughing Devil’s

Immortal road

One

More

Time

Publishing News! 

Bob Katzman’s two new true Chicago books are now for sale, from him!
Vol. One: A Savage Heart and Vol. Two: Fighting Words

Gritty, violent, friendship, classic American entrepreneurship love, death, heartbreak and the real dirt about surviving in a completely corrupt major city under the Chicago Machine. More history and about one man’s life than a person may imagine.

Please visit my new website: https://www.dontgoquietlypress.com
If a person doesn’t want to use PayPaI, I also have a PO Box & I ship anywhere in America.

Send me a money order with your return and contact info.
I will get your books to you within ten days.
Here’s complete information on how to buy my books:

Vol 1: A Savage Heart and Vol. 2: Fighting Words
My books weigh almost 2 pounds each, with about 525 pages each and there are a total together of 79 stories and story/poems.

Robert M. Katzman
Don’t Go Quietly Press
PO Box 44287
Racine, Wis. 53404-9998 (262)752-3333, 8AM–7PM

Books cost $29.95 each, plus shipping

For: (1)$3.95; (2)$5.95; (3)$7.95; (4)$8.95 (5)$9.95;(6) $10.95

(7) $11.95; (8) $12.95; (9)$13.95 (10)$15.95 (15)$19.95

I am also for hire if anyone wants me to read my work and answer questions in the Chicago/Milwaukee area. Schools should call me for quantity discounts for 30 or more books. Also: businesses, bookstores, private organizations or churches and so on.

My Fighting Words Publishing Co. four original books, published between 2004 and 2007 are now out-of-print. I still have some left and will periodically offer them for sale on my new website.

7 Comments »

Comment by Don Larson

August 9, 2012 @ 12:15 pm

Very good!

I’ve been through Amarillo many times in both directions. You’e right about that 100 miles of nothing there. In the hot summer the smell of cattle yards while driving over those 100 miles is something to appreciate.

Don

Comment by Bob

August 9, 2012 @ 12:25 pm

…and the hairy Tarantulas crawling across the molten blacktop, the bleached cow skulls on the side of the road, Christian radio stations–and only Christian radio stations–that make you wonder what country you’re in, if you listen to them in desperation for entertainment. A caustic and disturbing reminder of what I’m not when I’m slicing through the dry desert air at 90 miles an hour.

Texas and Oklahoma are very different places, Don.

Bob

(part of this same day reply later added to my poem. Gotta seize inspiration by the horns when you find it)

Comment by Herb Berman

August 9, 2012 @ 12:34 pm

Vivid tableau, Bob. A corner of Hell I think I’ll skip on my next vacation.

Comment by brad dechter

August 10, 2012 @ 7:09 am

Maybe those transcontinental or long haul drivers still fit the description you lay on them, but none of my tractor/trailer drivers do. As I read your description of them I was thinking that might have been 10+ years ago. There’s a driver shortage now- times have changed. To many of them it’s a career or profession. It’s not like the old days. The trucks are very complicated , computer oriented machines…
That being said, loved it. I can only imagine the younger tits!

Comment by Herb Berman

August 10, 2012 @ 2:24 pm

I’m a labor arbitrator who has resolved many trucking industry disputes. My experience with long-haul drivers comports with yours, Brad. Men (and women) in this field are generally professional, serious about their work, and highly skilled. In fact, the stereotypical blue-collar-worker cliche is outdated. Today, a typical factory worker may be sitting in an air conditioned office using a computer to control a production line or lines or a series of related and very complex processes. Of course, there are less skilled jobs, but they’re quickly being phased out. One highly skilled technician manipulating extremely expensive equipment may be responsible for millions of dollars in output——a job for which he is, as he should be, very well-paid.

Comment by Bob

August 10, 2012 @ 2:47 pm

Gotta respond, since I’m the curator of the past in both my stories and store in Skokie, Il. I first came into daily contact with a range of truck drivers when I opened my first newsstand with Rick Munden in 1965. With few exceptions, these were large,crude, rough, nasty, threatening, thieving and often anti-Semitic men. Until you got to know them, and then the whole blustering facade fell away. No, they weren’t cuddly little darlings afterwards, but they let me see the real person more clearly. I gradually became fascinated with the culture of truck drivers, their own “cowboy” self-image and how they treated each other, women and me. I was a teenaged writer when I first met them, and though all those first difficult contacts I met are dead now, I still remember them.–Bob

Comment by Jim Payne

December 22, 2017 @ 9:31 am

I like your “center of nothing.” As vivid and simple as their lives. You portrayed them well.

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