Monday, October 15, 2007


I was throwing out some punches
in Riviere-du-Loup
replacing pain with pain
I was just passing through

I was headed westward
for that phallus in the sky
of course I got busted
thrown in jail to get dry

Passed out on the concrete
sleeping rough again
this my latest tailspin
me and 60 other men

the worst thing about it is
this song is all a lie
all except the drinking part
so I forget to cry

I ain't ever been no where
outside of Halifax
got nobody but my parents
and they don't want me back

And if I died tonight
on the streets of this cold town
my social worker'd id me
'cause there's no one else around

No I don't need your sympathy
and I don't mean to complain
but the world has abandoned me
and my hopes run through your drain

You say that I'm a burden
my own worst enemy
that may just be true but
who has been a friend to me?

Labels: ,

true friends are hard to find...
hope you had a good vacation...
CD: in some cases, ANY friends are hard to find.
You have to rely on old number one to take care of number one. Friends beyond that are a luxury, to be sure. Good thing we all have at least one...
Eric: if that's true it's the saddest thing I've ever heard.
Omigosh, that's too sad, but sadly too true.
This reminded me of something Johnny Cash would sing.
Which is, of course, a wonderful complement :)
Sounds somehow like black literature of old. Thinking, for some reason of old Ralph Ellison, the Invisible Man.

Also James Baldwin.

Baldwin said buildings blunt, like the Phallus.

Ah we're a long way from Sesame Street.
Yeah, what PP said.

This is a sad lament.
Hope the vacation was just what you needed. Pretty cool poem!
sometimes you are your only friend but there are many times when even that friend abandons you and then you know true isolation, solitude. It is what you do then that counts.


Josie: all too common, too.

PP: indeed it's a huge compliment, I love JR Cash.

Ivan: the further the better. I have 'The Invisible Man' waiting for me on my bookshelf. It's been waiting a long time. I became interested in the book when I heard the story behind it, i.e. it's the only book he ever published, and it was a huge hit. Apparently he suffered from writer's block for most of his life after it came out. The one other manuscript he almost finished burned in a house fire.

Ultra: I like the word lament, that's what I was going for.
Myutopia: the trip was a success. Thanks about the poem.

TWM: that's a profound thought.
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