Untitled ("Youth I see off foothill stumps")
By Jack Joseph Smith
Youth I see off foothill stumps
Snapping what is a women's thread
There even immagination disappears
When any sneer is the knowledge,
of being mislead
Music is the care of the heart,
and the walking tears
Glimpsing landscapes
Working and drinking and doving
Girls are good and asleep,
Everybody up; we boarder on bandits
And the least of our problem,
is coming in droves
Fixing and building trucks,
and the First World War,
out of drive shafts
So weak as the last skank
We step with rivers of luck