truck-stop ghost

by Justin Hyde

they call you
the truck-stop ghost,
says the new overnight janitor
stepping out back.
just another third shift insomniac,
i smile
trying not to stare
at the dragon tattoo
flying out from between her tits.
join the club,
she smiles
lights a cigarette
and offers me one.
i tell her i don't smoke.
good time as any to start,
she says
sliding one behind my ear.
i thank her for it
put my headphones back on
and shuffle out towards the highway
to watch the sun rise
with the one legged man
trying to hitch
to the
korean war memorial.