I took a ferry across the St. Lawrence to take me to the North Country,
To the ore mines where even the newborns hack iron dust,
And their eyes are tinted iron red.
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You should re-title this: The Gay Guy across the St. Lawrence. Your present title is not 'politically correct'!
Your gritty images lead me to want to read everything you've posted. I wasn't SURE precisely what you were saying in the last few lines. Not sure exactly what I mean...you say it plain enough, but what's missing for me, I think, is the exact emotional connotation, for you, of growling in English when everyone on board is speaking French. Is English liberating for you? Anyway, these are some thoughts, take them for what you feel they're worth. I feel a wonderful gift in you, as well as some concerns kindred to my own. And I don't THINK I'm just writing this because you wrote something nice to me, either!