My Time Spent As A Drifter Poem by Dan Walters

And the saints came marching in
And right on they went
Down the street
Towards the black tees
Shanked their balls
Cursed and drank Champaign
And when all had been done
It was hardly across the line
But you’re either on
One or the other

And there was a lone shadow
Lost in its cast
Among that dividing line
Within it’s unconscious
We moved absolutely torpid
In result of it’s absent
Totally oblivious to either side