October 22, 1966 (I was 21)
north
boy
Remote was the lake
and forest of pine.
A dull boy in the dust
from an open pit mine
knew Bohunks and Finns
and Dago Red wine.
It was little of books
that he knew but he’d take
three-two beer with his
friends
beneath the trees to the
lake
where they’d drink and
discuss
the great lives that they’d
make.
Education’s slow breath
engendered reserve
a dislike for his life
of un-sophisticate verve.
And he has yet to discern
the use it served.
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