"Thus a jug
appeared on stage
at their various

performances
but purely
for effect."

Lean 'n' Pernod
after your mother's funeral,
(Adventist) later kitefights

at Piper's Lagoon--
luckily the barnacles
were their own antidote,

though not
to the ugly vintages of
the beerstrike summer,

picking little
Gregory Pecks
out of my belly

for months afterward,
scattered now
(those of us permitted to live!)

from the Palitinate of Prince Rupert
to the free city
of Holberg--

& as at the end of side two, today--
cresting the hill at Dogland,
Harewood below

at the peak of a dusty deshabille
out of Sigmund Romberg
in the last actinic

August sunrise
of the Trudeau administration--
was none of our concern.