Thursday, July 30, 2015

Preparation by K.B.Lamb 1976

I never was a tourist; in New York
I walked the streets at night and thought of work
And rode the subway train and bought a pipe
And found it like my home town, only bigger.
The movies get there first, I caught a Western,
And found the women fat and safe from me.
The dirt upon the streets and racing taxis
Make all the cities very much the same;
In Ottawa, in fact, our cab was faster.
But I was glad I went, I got panhandled;
The upper state was pastoral at night;
Returning in the dawn along the Delaware
Made me Ulysses rowing it for home.

My history of New York help make respected
My visions in Alexis Creek, told later.

The files are full, the magnitude of art
That's mine weighs golden on my striving soul,
The pen's at work and typewriter keys are poised
And projects loom like the mountains to be won;
And all the world shall know my ringing truth
Shall feel the victory of my years of toil.

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