sticks his head out of the window

begins to tell me his story

even though I am a stranger

he has never met before

he talks and talks

as he chain smokes his cigarettes

the ground outside his truck littered

with butts like fallen hail

he tells me he is living and sleeping in his truck

says his room-mate became too abusive

so he just left with only the clothes on his back

now he eats fast food for meals

washes up at public restrooms

he is basically homeless except for his truck

yet he is still optimistic

his only want is for company

and so he talks to anyone who will listen

his needs are few

but his heart needs a friend

a desire for conversation and companionship

more compelling than food or shelter

he is lost like Robinson Crusoe

stranded on an island of loneliness

he seeks the warmth of a human voice

so desperate for human contact

he will settle for any drifting stranger

or any footprint in the sand.