standing up ain’t ever easy

by underswansea


It’s a tough haul listening to all the bullshit. Who wouldn’t want to be fishing? Away from the salesmen and politicians lying their way to the top. Away from the union slackers, sleeping in their work vans and poor teachers dusting blackboard erasers, dreaming of guaranteed pensions.

There is plenty slipping through our fingers. It isn’t the right or left that continue to fuck us; it’s whosever in power.

I would like to tell you a lie right now:

I’ve seen the river run backwards. Ghosts in abandoned church windows.

Seen a guy ran over by a one-ton truck and live.

The spruce cracks like gunshots during the first deep frost. Everybody thinks it’s the birch.

Dentists have trouble pulling the most stubborn and broken of teeth. Sometimes they leave them there.

The bush is thick. And there are plenty of new roads.

At twenty yards, with a 22 short, aim two inches above the head.

Bones make good soup especially if they’ve been roasted.

It’s easy to be bored by truth and entertained by lies. That’s how they get us.