![\"By](\"http:\/\/www.polutexni.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/605px-August_Macke_040.jpg\")
\nYou meet him on the road from nowhere to oblivion,
\nwhere the sky comes down like a backlot
\nand tumbleweeds tackle and wrestle in the sand
\nand gas always costs ten cents.
\nFaded as a lobby card, he will offer to pay for the lift
\nwith the dust in his pockets and a wistful smile
\njust the list of a lance at a windmill,
\nbut the burden in his rucksack
\nis his own light life,
\nexpectant as the blank lines of a book.
\nIf you ferry him as far as the Pacific,
\nhe will vanish before the sun burns down to the sea,
\nthe phantom hitchhiker of the painted desert
\nthumbing his way into roadside repute.
\nStop the car among the broken timbers of the Triassic,
\nas heartshot red as a man with a promise in him,
\nand he may take his leave with civility
\nand his scenes stolen as absently as cigarettes,
\nthe ghost-errant
\nwho wore his cynicism
\nlike a silver dollar on his sleeve,
\nthe girl he haunted
\ngone with her paints to Paris long ago.<\/p>\n