Winter 07

I

To Du-BROV-nick you say as you put my bag into the hold of the bus.
The bag watcher is weathered-looking, strong, what you would like to look like at sixty.
He smiles, DU-brov-NICK
You don't know if this is the truth or a joke, but after a life-time of learning how to say: hello, goodbye and thank you, you just repeat.
DU-brov-NICK
He smiles warmly, you take this as a good sign, things will go well-- eleven hours from now-- in DU-brov-NICK.
You continue feeling lucky until he demands two euros, then you're not so sure.

II

In DU-brov-NICK the woman at information says,
What?
It's eight in the morning. You're the first in line and she's yelling at you,
What do you want!

It feels just like home.

You ask for a map.
She apparently has matters of State on her mind, She rips it from a pad, flings it at me, says,
take it, GO!

There's no one behind you in line, she's stuck in a tiny room. There's nowhere for either of you to go. She squints at you.
What do you want from me--now?

Which way is the hostel?
She circles the fortress (it's labeled, 'The fortress', there's a little picture next to it-- of a Fortress), even you know this can't be right.
You wonder about her life; then, you call her a bitch, she calls you insane.

III

On the bus you read, Cruise Ships coming to Dubrovnick, 2010; and thought, why does everyplace eventually sell mariachi hats?

You needn't have worried of over-development, the town is already a yea olde ice cream shop, full of Russians screaming at each other between licks, the Dalmations cheerfully overcharging everyone.

But, let's make this about you. They're all stuck here, You're the one who made a big effort , who took trains and planes and buses; but why? Why romance a fortress? Fortress dwellers don't like you, they don't like anyone; remember, remember, remember this.

Then you settle into part of a rock, look at the sea and forget everything--all over again.


	In-DU-Brov-NICK By Adam Jeffries Schwartz

	I To Du-BROV-nick you say as you put my bag into the hold of the bus. The bag watcher is weathered-looking, strong, what you would like to look like at sixty. He smiles, DU-brov-NICK You don't know if this is the truth or a joke, but after a life-time of learning how to say: hello, goodbye and thank you, you just repeat. DU-brov-NICK He smiles warmly, you take this as a good sign, things will go well-- eleven hours from now-- in DU-brov-NICK. You continue feeling lucky until he demands two euros, then you're not so sure. II In DU-brov-NICK the woman at information says, What? It's eight in the morning. You're the first in line and she's yelling at you, What do you want! It feels just like home. You ask for a map. She apparently has matters of State on her mind, She rips it from a pad, flings it at me, says, take it, GO! There's no one behind you in line, she's stuck in a tiny room. There's nowhere for either of you to go. She squints at you. What do you want from me--now? Which way is the hostel? She circles the fortress (it's labeled, 'The fortress', there's a little picture next to it-- of a Fortress), even you know this can't be right. You wonder about her life; then, you call her a bitch, she calls you insane. III On the bus you read, Cruise Ships coming to Dubrovnick, 2010; and thought, why does everyplace eventually sell mariachi hats? You needn't have worried of over-development, the town is already a yea olde ice cream shop, full of Russians screaming at each other between licks, the Dalmations cheerfully overcharging everyone. But, let's make this about you. They're all stuck here, You're the one who made a big effort , who took trains and planes and buses; but why? Why romance a fortress? Fortress dwellers don't like you, they don't like anyone; remember, remember, remember this. Then you settle into part of a rock, look at the sea and forget everything--all over again.

	Adam Jeffries Schwartz, a two-time nominee for the Pushcart Prize, is a writer and a traveler. His essay, "My Glamorous Mother", is in the LAMBA nominated anthology, Walking Higher. Other stories show up in many places, including: Descant, Driftwood & Laika Poetry Review. This year he is in Europe, looking around, seeing what's what.