Transcona calls me at three in the morningdemanding a rewrite
But I've moved to St. James. And the Free Pressis already printed
The rivers are bingeing and purging again--you see them only in the spring on the early news
This love moves toward somethingat bonspiel speed
consider yourself unhaloed in a trailer parkin St. Vital
You can lead a tourist to the Red Riverbut you can't make him drink himself to death
It's Saturday eveningI'll be at home, fucking up locutions
Sunday morningI'll be at the floodway burying Saturday
