Traveler’s Lament: Ode to the Sesenta

By Rease Kirchner

Editor’s note: “sesenta” is the word for sixty in Spanish, which is the number of the horrible bus line in Buenos Aires that this ode is about.

Traveler’s Lament: The Old Sesenta

There are no less than seven lines

All of different types

So you’d be a fool to get high hopes

When one comes in sight

And yet you always raise your arm

To stop one in the distance

Though you know yours may never come

It’s just that inconsistent

You can’t count on old sesenta

It’s simply always late

And when and if it ever comes

It will be in a sorry state

Chocked full of people

With quite unhappy faces

Grumbling and checking the time

All late for different places

Oh old sesenta, fickle thing

I fear this is my fate

Standing here, day in, day out

With no choice but to wait

—-

Rease is a US citizen who fled the Midwest in favor of ex-pat life in Buenos Aires, Argentina. She is bilingual and is very capable of cussing you out in Spanish. She loves gaining and sharing knowledge of local cultures, customs and adventure, and she especially loves getting sassy with anyone who gets in her way. Her favorite place in the world is any artisan ice cream shop in Argentina