moon river

there's a smell of urine - mixed with exhaust fumes
it was dad's favourite song

dead ahead, wafting through the chilly air
in downtown Toronto in November 1985, reaching for my Minolta
sensing magic but getting tragic instead
dime a dozen


(play the music clip bottom whilst reading)

 

wow

shit, this guy is shivering, soaked in the freezing rain
desperately blowing what's left of his remaining warm expiration date
into a rusty old harmonica - sounding a lost and lonely SOS

in the form of a broken melody
through his crusty
reeds
 
 

m o o n   r i v e r

drifting into his chosen disturbia
the brain is rusty and 
i'm not sure if i'll
 ever get up

knees and feet are totally shot
but i'm lucid - translucent

it's a difficult translation in a torn ticket
that promises no return and no quarter
lost hopes and dreams that didn't make it
past a bittersweet remembrance
on the water long ago

when life was better - when love flourished
when family actually "mattered"

having grown up in northern ontario, working the railroad
dodging a WW2 draft after picking up loose coal on the tracks in Kapuskasing
during the great depression - moving to Timmins later on
working the tracks for CPR in the 50 below - winter wind

long before wireless/digital and the internet 
when dreaming was watching Grace Kelly on TV in black and white

and then going to the bar after/late to find one
that looked like her - pick and choose 
there - the lonely one at the end of the bar
perfect - missing daddy

dime a dozen
yep - believe it or not
i actually fucked a girl 
that looked just like her - yeah Grace

ok, i had my moment
my fifteen minutes 
of fame

"a union job that ended abruptly
after sucker punching my foreman 
in the face


blood


but that was so long ago 
i really don't remember much
it was late and we were really drunk
at the time"

 

broken, moving on out of necessity

"so yeah, the drink infestation early on 
an absent abscess inbred inheritance
getting married too early, having a son - who i never see anymore
because he's far away now
a distant memory
hates me


gone forever


my childhood is an edited/censored
cheery chapter in deranged derailment
tucked away in a photo-album
somewhere


 you see - ah ok

not my story, but his
dad beating mom
fuckin' bitch

all liquored up and on yet another rampage 
he smacked her around at home a lot
way up there in Moosonee as kids
the disease passed on to me
and my younger sister
marrying a man-child
who smacked her
around
too


it comes with the territory
you just adapt


she wants the trailer
whatever

take the fucking trailer


i'm separating from the first wife
finding another - at the Empire Hotel in Timmins  
in January 1974 at 1am - her shirt off
dancing on a table - cheering her on
those amazing 'tits' - wow
both inebriated and participating 
in a turn of events that transformed us
into a day-glow abortion


with yet more collateral damage"








 

"leaving the second wife after having 3 more kids
all girls - all having forgotten who their father was/is
finding me in this reincarnation, they call their abusive husbands now

i drifted south - into the city
alone
needing to get out 
so much bullshit

something around "CNR is hiring there"  
but didn't pan out - just a false rumour
ok, maybe (just maybe) there was an interview 
where i showed up ...


shit-faced

 
finding some sense of peace
on these heated urban transit grates 

there's food around 
it's amazing how many people 
throw half-eaten BK "whoppers"
into the trash 



living on the streets in Toronto since - 10 years pass
wondering what went wrong - why this - why me"

?

 

the loose change pays for a big can 

of max ice at the beer store

lost but NOT forgotten
i'm still playing a family favourite here

in what's left
of this

legacy



m o o n   r i v e r




it's all in a languid lullaby to help you sleep
and there's even a

happy huckleberry ending 


sweet dreams my friend