
Rain on the Plain

THE BARNSTORMER AND THE BOY
In the little plane, just the pilot and me
up up up into the prairie air
Climbing and gliding and floating free
high above the county fair
The town looked small from way up there
but hell… it looked small from anywhere
It was the changing people into ants
that I loved the best and wanted again
Being on the wrong side of relative bigness
had been causing me a lot of pain
CHINESE RESTAURANT
Sorry John Donne
but some men may be islands
or castaways
in small prairie towns
fifty miles by bad road
from any other of their race
Tall walled booths along one side
twisted-wire chairs and tables too
my father and his friends had coffee
I think mine was cream soda
We may have eaten there
but I don’t remember
certainly at five or six
I would not have imagined
that we were as strange to him
as he was to us
All I ever knew
of the inner man
was the pungent foreignness
of the old two-holer out back
Fast forward six years or so
to small town of Mossbank
on the South side of the lake
A chubby twelve year old
sits in a low walled booth
with his best buddies
and another Chinese man
in another Chinese café
serves up vanilla cokes
(when vanilla still had alcohol)
and marks our tabs with Chinese signs
I asked him what my three mean
Big – Small – Happy
BEER PARLOR 2 THE DARK SIDE
Inside all is sound and fury
old friends catching up
a tough week sliding away
drop by drop
Outside, son or daughter
watches the door
every time it opens it’s him
but it isn’t
With every neighbor going in
sending a mounting plea
“What about me”
THE BEER PARLOR
Politics and weather
Little round seated chairs
no-one could have sat on
ten minutes completely sober
Little round tables
completely covered at last call
fluted glasses perfectly filled
to the well marked tide line
(no charging for foam here)
Smell of well aged
beer, barf and barn boots
but no matter, it was men only
and they didn’t seem to care
In the service of progress I guess
it was decided by the province
that each town could vote
on women being allowed
to enter these sacred halls
George, the owner,
a man of steady habits
and unshakable prejudices
thinly disguised as principles
said “If you vote for this I close the place”
They did, and he did
PRAIRIE BUMPER STICKER
I brake for trains
that don’t run anymore
MOSSBANK II
Valve trombone and trumpet
Ernie and me
poisoning the air with practice
MOSSBANK
Chinese café
big – small – happy
three symbols for me