Jota Boombaba – 2 poems 

Volkswagen Van

                         “We never see him.”

                                     —Louis XIV


Grand chateau, once royal court of France

  now packed with peasants on bus tours from Paris

    —and me curled up in a Volkswagen van


Where once purple kings and sycophants pranced

  dancing with stars on a moonlit terrace

    this grand chateau, this royal crown of France


Now hosts a daily deluge—trash cans

  full of coffee cups, littered souvenirs

    and me curled up in a Volkswagen van


When one past prince fell ill at romance

  too ashamed to be seen, too embarrassed

    he shunned the chateau, a sin across France


Like him, I’m alone, a grin with no glance

  never to know a stroll with an heiress

    only the hold of a Volkswagen van





Railway Deli

                     —Train to Venice, 1980


Parents packed with diaper bags; infants, kids

  stuffed like peppers in a carriage corridor


Uniformed soldiers smoking San Miguels

  strung-up salamis, olives in a jar


I close my itchy eyes, dream of first-class seats

  roomy leather arms, air-con breeze


I pop a Coca-Cola, pour bubbles over ice

  prop my tired feet, sip the countryside


But eyes blink open, burning from the stench

  thin tin can, narrow wooden bench




Jota Boombaba, when not on the road, writes in and around San Francisco, where he lives an kicks back with his son.  Catch him most days at


One thought on “Jota Boombaba – 2 poems 

  1. Pingback: Two More Euro Poems | Jota Boombaba

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