Join The Herd. Join Us Anita Marie!

Photo by Marianna Mercado on

Today I feel


Not to be dramatic

but I felt that way yesterday too.


Maybe I should light my hair on fire


 say I’m going to  support Bernie Sanders

and load up on Beatle CD’s and start drinking coffee and proclaim

I am ‘ woke’ every chance I get.

I am with it, aware of it. I am too cool for school.

If I do this, I bet I won’t be invisible or feel invisible anymore.


You know

looking at this I  have reconsidered.

I think I’ll remain invisible



I’ll Be Home Late Tonight

I have learned over the last few days, that when I get a text from the Sounder that says, ” Medical Emergency ” it probably means someone was on the tracks and got hit by a train.

That’s what happened on Wednesday.

I was on my way home when someone sitting across from me said he just got a text from his friend that was riding on the train ahead of us and his friend had texted  that the train they were on hit someone.

Almost right after that we pulled into our first stop and then  we got word about the fatality and that we were looking at a two hour wait minimum.

Considering I was going to get to go home and my family wasn’t going to have to claim me at the morgue, I decided that I may as well not stress, stay with the train instead if racing for a bus or calling for an Uber  and that I would eventually get to where I needed to be.

Once we got going, we eventually got to the place on the tracks where the accident happened.

There were law enforcement cars, there was a Medical Examiner’s truck and then I saw a gurney. I was surprised that it was there, considering.

Our train was moving slowly   as we moved through the intersection, I looked out my window and I saw a leg, a little further down I saw part of a torso and then I saw the people who have to take care of situations like this one kneeling in a circle and working.

And that’s when some jackass who rides the train shouted out ‘ Oh my GOD.”

But she wasn’t crying out in horror, she sounded like she was at the movies or at a concert- she sounded  thrilled.

I write about death, I have worked in a Funeral Home, I have been there when my loved ones have passed away and I explore and study death and it’s influence in art and music an literature.

But here is the thing- when I am in the presence of Death I show it respect.

I respect the deceased, I respect the process, I respect the impact death has on what it touches.

I think that the passengers on my train, for the most part respected that- Not everyone looked and some people made it a point to NOT look.

If you were going to be a part of that moment, if you wanted to witness what death did on the tracks that day- then don’t act like that person lived and then died to give you a cheap thrill.

If there is  on thing I’ve learned about Death over the years, I’ve learned it has a way of catching those little moments where people did not respect the process  and it stores them away for the future.

For. Your. Future.


The Team Player


I want to be the lady in this picture.

There is something seriously wrong with her

but who cares?

She has a smile on her face

and she is ready to serve you with a smile.

And for that, she will be embraced by one and all


I am ready to be a team player.




May 20, 2019

Photo A.M. Moscoso

This morning on my train ride through Minnesota the  train slid to a stop and something about the stop woke me up, but I was tired and fell back to sleep.

I woke up again about a half hour later and realized the train wasn’t moving and that we were in the same tree lined stretch of track.

Word came through, eventually someone had been out on the tracks and our train hit them.

It had been such a beautiful morning.


Amtrak Train Hits, Kills Pedestrian In Coon Rapids

A Mother’s Love

Just a short time ago

I was at an exhibit called ” Bodies In Motion.”

I ran into a woman I ride the train with there  and we walked around for awhile and took in the exhibits.

Then we came across this one and my train companion became visibly upset. Sweat popped out all over her face and she turned absolutely pale.

” I’ve had babies, I can’t look at this. I can’t be here. They never had a chance. I can’t be here.”

She meant it, she left the exhibit and nearly walked into a huge display case on her way out of the room.

Recently this woman and I were on the train together and the subject of the immigrant children who had died at Trump’s detention center came up.

” It’s not his fault. It’s their parent’s fault they’re dead. You should  blame them, not him.”

I thought about those fetuses that had visibly upset her , that had moved her to tears because they ‘never had a chance’.

Sometimes I see her at the train station, but I never meet her eye and I never say hello.

I just can’t.