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The Wooden Sky
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Virginia
Well, first Virginia called
And said she wanted socks.
Same with dead cowboy dreams,
But you know I can't stand
Them uneducated.
Well, the ones at dawn,
They wanna talk.
Well, not so much those
That never give
Themselves a chance.
And if you stay
In Winnipeg for the summer,
Won't you please think about me,
Out here in the country?
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Well, if a block can produce
The single poet
That I could look up without much.
You know that it's
A big business
To get behind that.
Well, it's not the old stuff
That the romance saw;
It's a miniature city
With big, brown hymns
And people all day
Who stare at me.
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