i remember a bleak-eyed prisoner
in the Stoney Mountain life-suspension
home
you drink and fight and damage
someone
and they throw you away for
some years of boredom
one year done and five more
to go --
no job waiting so no parole
and over and over they tell
you that you're nothing...
and
i toss another log on Gavin's woodpile
and
wonder at the lamp-warm window's welcome smile.
i remember crackling embers
coloured windows shining through
the rain
like the coloured slicks on
the English River
death in the marrow and death
in the liver
and some government gambler
with his mouth full of steak
saying "if you can't eat the
fish, fish in some other lake.
To watch a people die -- it
is no new thing."
and
the stack of wood grows higher and higher
and
a helpless rage seems to set my brain on fire.
and
everywhere the free space fills
like
a punctured diving suit and i'm
paralyzed
in the face of it all
cursed
with the curse of these modern times
distant mountains, blue and
liquid,
luminous like a thickening
of sky
flash in my mind like a stairway
to life --
a train whistle cuts through
the scene like a knife
three hawks wheel in a dazzling
sky --
a slow motion jet makes them
look like a lie
and i'm left to conclude there's
no human answer near...
but
there's a narrow path to a life to come
that
explodes into sight with the power of the sun.
a
mist rises as the sun goes down
and
the light that's left forms a kind of crown
the
earth is bread, the sun is wine
it's
a sign of a hope that's ours for all time.
(Burritt's Rapids 17/11/75)
(* "Lappish runes" -- Lapp
Shamans covered their drums with striking magical symbols, which were then
used to divine, contact spirits, etc.)
(* "English River" -- river
system in north-western Ontario, polluted with mercury for the next hundred
years by the Reid paper company. Nobody is doing much about the fact
that the native people who live along its course have lost both food and
liveliho
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |