The Mountain Prison

Sa

BS (By an inmate — December, 1962)
There it stands, the Mountain Prison,

A one hundred thigty acre sight —
Enclosed with wire of barbs and treason
Casting shadows of its shameful might.

*

There of steel and stone construction,
You create the atmosphere of doom,
A Fraser Valley’s odd production,
You stand a veritable tomb.

With your crude administration
Based on hard-earned people’s toil
Concealing all its fornications

On Pacific Coastal soil.

You're built to hide a social slaughter
From the public of the land

To convert the Freedom Son and Daughter
And subjugate them to your hand.

There you speak of love extended
Truthful to the heartless mind,
Which can only be commended
Amidst purveyors of your kind.

You have made there lines, divisions,
Cut plantations into squares,

Boarded walls to high positions

Built in secret catching snares.

You place hope in the intentions
To segregate a doe from male,
Such past ventures and inventions
Have proved fruitless, barren, stale.

Through most subile imagination
You intend to catch the young,
And by sly satanic machination
You seek to conquer weak and strong.

You outstretched your hands for picking
Fruit from vines you did not plant,

See — the Owner's eyes are watching
You the thieves, the hungry giant.

We say the days are numbered,

The hours gone by. the minutes left,
To the life of beastly blunders

To all modern tyranny and theft.

Wash your hands from blood and Sainthood.

If it be possible at all,
From all martyrs for Brotherhood,
From the plight of groans of children small.

There you'll stand, the Mountain Prison
As a monument of Herod's days.

And our sufferings will be the reason
To betray your treacherous evil ways.

Interesting radio series
appearing on local CBC

and hitch-hiked her way across
the country to Vancouver, how
she later returned to England and
subsequently became convinced
that she is truly a Canadian and
what prompted her to once again
leave her homeland and return

N interesting, different type

of series is being aired or
_CBC Radio, Originating in the
Studios of CBU, Vancouver, it is
a series of interviews with Mrs
Ann Minard, of the city.

Mrs. Minard, who wrote the
script, is interviewed on the for good to the country of het
theme of “An Immigrant’s Con- choice.

Several readers have contact-
ed the PT to inform us of the re-
freshingly new concepts project-
ed by this series.

It can be heard on Thursday
10:15 p.m., over station

Ception of Canada.”
She discusses how she crossed
Over the Atlantic on a freighter

ee

Pearson promises the Kids

free milk”, Liberal-Ameri- — syening
‘ g,

CBU—690 on the dial.

WORTH
READING

Industry, bY

can milk — full of Strontium

and

Militarism
Victor Perlo. Price $1.85.

A contemporary work by a
leading U.S. Marxist economist,
with foreword by Professor J. D.
Bernal, President of the World

Council of Peace.

Bernal states: “
ded to make us understand
despite the alarm about
war and_ rising popular
avor of disarmament,
‘ess is in

_ , Just what

is nee
why,
nuclear
pressure in f
very little or no progr
fact recorded.”

Explains profiteering in
Missile Age.

‘6
ned like to see if it can budget
Y husband's wages to meet the
Present cost of living!”
Signalmans Journal (U.S.)

the

WE SALUTE THE WOMEN OF THE WORLD

AN AMERDIAN MOTHER AND CHILD IN BHITISH GUIANA.

z

Pay now - die later

The following article appeared
in the Feb. 19 “The
Ubyssey.”

issue of

HE purveyors of death on the
T instalment plan are again,
shovels ready, making their pitch
for my carcass when I’m gone.

The ghoulish pleas, all in the
family’s interest — they're ter-
ribly concerned the bereaved
ones shouldn’t have a body on
their hands they wouldn’t know
what to do with — occur once or
twice a year.

* x *

I catch that faint, clammy
whiff of the grave and I know
another piece of junk mail from
Necropolis has slithered through
the. slot.

This time it’s from the Gold
Crest Funeral Plan. Nothing
cheap about those fellows. Silver?
No! GOLD!! Well, they doubt-
less charge enough.

The small, unaddressed folder
sternly asks — these boneyard
salesmen always take a_ stern

tone — if I have faced ‘“‘the facts

song group.

pur MIT_ESTONES, well-like
are preparing for their concert

in aid of the B.C. Peace Council. It will be

of life.”

Bless me, fellows! Another
folder. just last week told me it
could keep me going to at least
a hundred.

The authoritarian note is main-
tained throughout, as if to say:
“Did you think you could hang
on forever, you slob?”

Somebody will have to shovel
me under, they say, and that
takes bread, man. Someone may
be “left without answers’’ as to
what to do with the shell when
the nut is gone.

* * *

We don’t make soap out of the
dead in this country. We make
money.

And, they say coyly, the family
will save money if I act NOW.
Why it’s so low anyone can
afford it. It’s good with the
charnelhouse of your choice any-
where in the world.

Put the cash on the line,
Now don’t be late;
Or we'll say: “To hell
With the maggot bait.”
The most touching note, how-

s &

d local folk

ning at 8 p.m.

held as part of the Peace Party at the Pen-
der Auditorium, Sunday, March 10, begin-

ever, is reserved for the end.
‘Delivery (of the folder) to a
home at a time of illness or
sorrow is unintentional.”’ Sorrow?
Don’t people die anymore?

Fellows! Come on! What the
hell do you take me for? I can
stand anything but hypocrisy..
Send one of your boys around to
fit me for a black suit, or some-
thing, but please, don’t insult my
intelligence.

* cf *

Isn’t it illness and sorrow that
puts ice cream and cake into
your children’s mouths? Don’t
knock it.

Wipe away those phony tears or
I’ll die laughing.

No, I’ve decided not to take
your plan. Take me off the mail-
ing list. Spare me the funeral-
parlor sentiments. The cadaver
will get across the Styx without
the push from you.

I've left instructions that wher
I’m gone they sharpen me in one
end and drive me into the ground.
I think I’d prefer that to you.

March 8, 1963—PACIFIC TRIBUNE—Page 5