and their stomachs were the only ones with any energy left to complain as they sat there waiting
altogether.
ran out
And then the money for the meat-pies
waiting.
and a lot of guys like them were camped out
and a lot of guys like them were camped out
with the depression full on
waiting down under that bridge
for something to change
waiting for something to happen
And they were waiting
and their stomachs began to argue with each other.
Then the space between the meatpies began to stretch out
but the West Coast was dying too from the depression
so my dad and my Uncle Frank
who wasn't anybody's uncle at the time
ended up camped out under the Georgia Street Bridge.
And they were living on one meat-pie a day.
