961. ALTAMARINE : BAD WEATHER

ALTAMARINE : BAD WEATHER
Bam! Bam! Don't do me there! Let it horrid
pass me by! I genuflect with my only hand,
but it always seems that no one notices.
-
The sign says in 1823 there were over forty
people living here - a sawmill and a mission post,
together. I can hardly believe it myself. All that
visceral work, and so few female delights.
No families, apparently, were ever formed;
which makes me damned suspicious.
(Bam! Bam! Don't do me there!).
-
An overland stage went weekly from
here to Freehold and back. That same leathery
parchment tells me that, in Freehold, there
was ample provision for ribaldry, and
even a bordello. People used to say, 'boys
will be boys' and all that crap. I don't
hear that much anymore. Everything
now is so sensitive and caring.
Bam! Bam! Don't do me there!
-
Nothing makes sense anymore.
In the tiny graveyard on my right,
the sign says, all those original
millers are buried.
-
(But it always seems that no one notices).