Sunday, January 15, 2006

From the Cave: February 20th

February 20th
Picked a man up on the highway, before I made it out from the valley
On the bridge of Saint Croix Mountain, we talked our way in
To the Halifax basin at Bedford, I passed the one place, where
He once as a child fished for sport, before the bridges of Halifax were built.

He had his hard living but he could still tell me God was with me and I believed him. The cats of North Street still have a friend who respects a lot of people around here. Me and my neighbours stock up on good water and drink it these streets full of hard workers everywhere I go. Even the grocer gives me ten minutes when he has it. I blame the barber for wanting to see it.

My shoes I walk in and run in were good enough for Thunder Bay and the docklands. Where you got to fish for tuna further and further out, we got our lines cut, go stand in line-ups. We took your cracked canners home to a dry-dock, where runaways were fewer than might have been.

Wards of the counties you told your lies and got paid up. But who came to get you when you were cold on the bridges of Bridgewater? Did anyone warn you away from your rights, were some roads well marked for a reason?

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