discarded belongings, don't long to be under the trees
                                                 among the dead leaves,
a suitcase, a blow up mattress wrapped in plastic
                 does sleep happen here, how domestic?
There is no place,
watch where you walk, needles and not from the cedar trees,
anything you like under the trees?,
by the babbling creek who has heard, more stories that
float among the shallow pools, until the rain tests the truth and
the lies bob and float away,
under the trees tales have been told,
that get caught in the low hanging
branches, and
the smoky clouds that are lifted with the voices,
get in amongst the cedar tree arms,
and just hang there, ghosts of the past,
dead end relationships,
drug deal, something to steal,
was that a scream?
or did the caretaker of the underbrush
have a bad dream? There is no place like
this, but it happens so often this way.

"Pumphouse, bus stop, hospital and a high school,
Tim Horton's so close that you could...walk right
there, crossing traffic being bullys on the boulevard,
Dairy Queen, rehab centres and a place that takes
...well crazies off the street, and a place that sells
flowers and plants, look at all the amenities that are
close at hand."

"Hey, roll up the rim is here, you can win twice,
can you spare enough change for a coffee mate?, here,
I 'll even show you to the head of the line, I would hold
the door open for ya' but the place is under renovation,
you know, coffee to go from the mobile restaurant"