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.
No comments:
Post a Comment