OUR DISPATCHER
At the newly painted station
A small boy attaches himself
To our luggage and ties on tags.
The White Star Line bus will,
He assures us, leave on time.
Meanwhile on the pavement,
With shrill cries he alerts
The passersby to the imminence
Of departure for Mexico City
In fifteen minutes. Sure enough,
He is soon loading our bags
And being reimbursed again.
As the bus pulls out, he
Comes down the aisle with
A basket of tortillas
And writes out tickets for
The four senoritas who heeded
His recent announcements.
With regret, on the outskirts
Of San Miguel, we observe
The young entrepreneur
Taking his leave.
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