Lottery
The Professor tells me
he dreams,
dreams of a bus station
at the beginning of everything else,
where another Indian
tries to board the last Greyhound
without paying fare,
the same Indian hitchhiking in the rain
no matter where you drive,
and you stop,
let him into your life,
call him cousin,
and take him
anywhere he wants to go,
passing through gates of some reservation,
buying illegal fireworks, cigarettes,
a raffle ticket for a '57 Chevy,
and you promise yourself
you can win that car,
drive away,
hide in a rest stop
miles from anywhere,
or anything
somewhere in between.
Sherman Alexie..........from The Business of Fancydancing
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