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Your Friend the DrifterKen Smith
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Vol. 6 No. 11 · 21 June 1984
Poem

Your Friend the Drifter

Ken Smith

Too many years up and down the world
chasing some light that goes out.
She’s always moved, the job turns out
to be some people talking in a train.

Some work up cures for new diseases,
some we never see decode our traffic.
Others are mapping the new dictatorships,
others the movies they will make of them.

But all night long I have been underwater
mining the harbours off Nicaragua,
I need a place to dress up in my uniform.
I have a deal for you. I’m your imaginary friend.

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