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Friday, September 15, 2006

Maritime

Maritime

Starting

Guy at book store... Driving at night in Montreal... Drummondville... Biff...

New Brunswick

Guidebook maps... Lost on a mountain road off hwy 17... Dalhousie... Black Point... Shediac...

Prince Edward Island

The Bridge... Camping... Charlottetown... Breakfast... Shopping... Wool... Mortification...

Nova Scotia

Halifax... Alex, Maddy & Joe... Lost Amanda... The Bitter End...

Halifax

Sushi... Town... Fort... Dinner... Alex's School... Breakfast...

Peggy's Cove, Lunenburg

Conservation area... Peggy's Cove... Lunenburg... Hunt's Point... Cottages... Whales... Migrane...

Digby, Sandy Cove, St. John

Long Drive... Sandy Cove... Lobster... Ferry... Biff... St. John...

The Long Road Home

New Brunswick... Quebec... Ontario...

Haikus from the Road

Barn on fire Look at the cows run As the barn roof collapses And the flames climb high Driving in darkness Soot on the wind turns my head Guttering it burns Civil Engineering The roads wound around As we drove through Montreal It made my head spin Why did we do it? Our rebar revolution. We needed a bridge. Pigs Smelly pigs and fog Quiet classical music Darkest night and pot Charred spit and gristle With an apple in its mouth Slowly turns the pig Mist Beneath the white cloud And between the misty fog, The CN Tower Running from the fog In a costal morning light Suddenly: a cliff. Crisis All the alarms shriek: Bells, whistles, beeps crescendo I gasp, then silence. Once when I was young I held between my fingers Sulfur. And struck it. Mountain view A distant mountain Covered in red and gold trees, Reflects in a lake. God bless the Polish Beauty and isolation A church and a view Lobster I'm stuck in a trap, Being lifted to my doom Where my claws won't clack Clickity-Clack-Clack I walk with bones on my back Down the sandy track The season fall Yellow and orange Burst out from the green forest And red flames brightly And there is beauty And there is blood red luster In my final fall Unlucky bear The salmon are gone The honey bees migrated The camper are packed Honey and berries And salmon thick in the stream And one careful shot Tide The moon's in the west Tidal pools swell, rivers rise And the ocean comes Acadian coast Too bad all the fish are gone You can't fight the tide Ourselves A tall brown-haired girl Walks, smiles and chats to herself Then she laughs out loud Early explorer Finally leaves the shale coast Hungry and tired Rome City of logic Laws, bread and circuses, lies Crumbled in the sun Roads and discipline The heel of Rome on your throat My centurion Sandy A castle built high, Detailed with turrets and flags Gives way to the tide. Boulders on mountains Rocks tumble in the rivers Pebbles in the beach Mortified As I passed Derek I clocked him in the head Intentionally I've got some advice Lock the door before you poop Trust me on this one Whales We drove to the coast We didn't see any whales But we thought we did This much I'll tell you Jelly fish in Sandy Cove Are better than whales Ferry We left from Digby And cross the Bay of Fundy. St. John by midnight. There's not a ripple And, across the river Styx The ferryman grins Frigid My wife is frigid Our bed is cold and clammy She won't lift her skirts. The slippery blan- Ket is heavy on my toes, And I'm shivering. Hills Green, red and gold hills Between which a river runs Flowing to the sea Hiding in the hills We are the last resistance Tomorrow we die Stone I melt then surface I crack, bend, break and crumble I'm worn by the sea Aluminum peg I'm pounding it through the shale No stone will stop me. The Other Giggles when tickled Lanky legs and soft brown eyes Mike likes cuddling My little monster Always all over the place Like a butterfly Religion John Knox was a Scott In Ottawa there stands a Church that bears his name. What is religion? A good excuse for killing... It's always been thus. Farms A calf sucks my hand Al the way up to my wrist It misses its mom. Season sow our fate We rend our lives from the earth And worship the sun. Disaster No gas or chicken We got lost to find ice cream St. Hyacinthe Ugly mothered son Of a diseased ridden goat Raised on swill and dirt.