Sullivan’s Lower Trunk

Sometimes ??? find Water
Sometimes a bumbling Drunk
But the best Diviner of Water was
Thom Sullivan's lower trunk
We carted Thom to a dirsty camp
There wasn't a man smelling of grease
They told me finding water in Summer
Was like growing the Golden Fleece

Heaven won't ruin but Sorrow and Pain
Tho' fervently they kneeled down;
The only bath anyone could take
Was wiping knee blood from the ground
Them strained his face, loosening pants;
Out Came young brother, Pride
Eyes loosened in Thom's sockets
Hands on the pride, he smiled

Pride was shoverd headfirst into Thom's girth
Only legs and waist stuck out
Pride divine could find Water fine
And could smoke a cigar with no Mouth
The legs twitch one way & next
The miners were Dismayed in sooth
But the way the little legs pointed -
Convincing they were pointing true

Then finally the sets of legs haulted
Stopping at a small scrub-brush plant
Gently water ran down from
The jutting legs, soaking pants
We got our Pay, headed our way
But not before we'd filled ???
Had to dig with the grease a hole
And give Pride a bath