Light Rail Confidential Case File 28: Purgatorio

Light Rail Confidential is a column written by anonymous ASU students who share their experiences surrounding public transportation — namely, the light rail. It is managed by journalism junior Danika Worthington and illustrated by kinesiology junior Rachel Ganger.


purgatorio

here waiting for judgment— an older couple, tourists: her hair streaked white and amber, ankles swollen.
“today it’s a black toddler and parents, an overweight Indian asleep in skinny soccer shorts and white men” (Illustration by Rachel Ganger)

transit:
a state of getting
but not having,
going & not being.
purgatorio.

here waiting for judgment—
an older couple, tourists:
her hair streaked
white and amber,
ankles swollen.
his shirt African animal print,
rounded nose.
Do they know where they are?

“That map is deceiving,”
the man next to me says.
(he’s been watching me write.)

if you speak,
they will listen.
in limbo
they’re hungry for stories.

today it’s
a black toddler and parents,
an overweight Indian
asleep in tight soccer shorts,
and white men
with hair combed
back over loss.

“No good restaurants
in downtown Phoenix,”
says the man next to me.

the boy stands
on his parents’ legs,
looking out the window,
supporting himself
on their shoulders.

& he is just part of another
lost generation
roaring out the frustration
before he even knows its name.

sometimes the question is only
which circle we are headed for.

bicycles hang suspended
and click together.
the rails creak and squeal.

Contact the columnist at ddworth1@asu.edu