192. sonneries de la STM

https://dcmontreal.wordpress.com/2017/06/20/montreal-to-allow-recognize-rear-bus-door-entry/

ding

ding

ding

light

green flashes in the

wintry dark lit

artificial by the

pasty

metro

lights

beep

beep

beep

go the sleeping

passengers

one by one

three by three

through the

turnstile

gates

March 21, 2020

Montréal, QC

181. Torontonian Months

Sushi without
fish and
water without
ice!

Lessons back-to-
back and lessons just
alone;

Sweat and smiles and
suitcases and
backpacks -

birthdays and
cards and
Australia and
San
Francisco -

restaurants and
catching
up:

new friends and
old ones -
new buildings and
old -

smoke and homeless and
pizza and
LV:
these are the sights and sounds and
smells!

143. The Sublime

From: Jan Axel's Blog

swarm of vultures,
high in the afternoon
sun;
slow and circular,
like a baby’s
mobile, suspended in morbid
listlessness above the
Florida
flats:

restless,
tension hovers in the
unoccupied molecules
buzzing between the
unfashionably active
fat mosquitoes;

boxed-up fish suppliers and
phony Chinese restaurants;
ghetto Black-men at the
7-11:
tank-top children in the
avenues and
dried-up yellowed
grass
roasting in the
sunburnt air.

112. Miss Anonymous

Cold cement,
scaffolding and
C. Dior.

Passersby
race by quickly,
unamused:

plaintive eyes
penetrate air,
dazed and mute.

Straightened, teased;
chemicals and
strange shampoos:

Turquoise eyes;
nude lips and brows,
pallid skin.

Gawky limbs
rendered comely
instantly

Alien,
frozen, timeless,
pondering:

Stamped upon
cardboard billboards
ten feet long

here, beneath
the apartment
complexes.

Coming soon:
promises are
beckoning;

autumn leaves
swirl and simmer
recklessly.

55. Sehnsucht

Out of the slant of window,
regarding fiercely;
the postman will not come!
It is Saturday.

Customs, duty, HST:
words jumble, clatter noiselessly;
meanwhile countless other packages
are likely similarly detained –

lost?
Mis-delivered to Thailand,
perhaps.
Taking the “scenic”
route

Buybuybuy
filling the emptiness with
things

Longing:

I thought it would be easy
to condense, to distil all of it
into a person, into a Utopia
of sunlight; that citadel of
Childhood;
or in work, in
work of all kinds –

Workworkwork

else we dwell in follies,
in goods reading
“undeliverable”,
dead letters
we wrote ourselves
while we wait,
in suspension

Der Wanderer über dem Nebelmeer,
Caspar David Friedrich, 1818

Buy Jonas Kaufmann's album "Sehnsucht": http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B001MTLRSW/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=somturnig-20&linkCode=as2&camp=15121&creative=330641&creativeASIN=B001MTLRSW

54. Breakfast Time

Silly things!
Scurrying ‘round in flocks of 2 or 3,
picking at the scraps:
French toast doesn’t remain
on the ground for long!

I can tell the females are
greyish; males maybe brighter brown.
I’m no ornithologist;
I can appreciate a good little bird
though;
these little things are
little wonders,
aren’t they!

Look: this one has a
pink Fruit Loop
stuck round its beak:
if Kellogg knew how convenient
these were for the little birdies,
they would be proud –

How well they fit, like wreaths
around their beaks;
how well they fit down their little throats!
I don’t know if I should be mad,
losing bits of food to them,
or if I should be amused at their excitement, their sugar high;
or just to sit in peace,
regarding them
with such a
watchful eye!

"...daintily picking up a Cheerio..."
Photograph by Kelly Riccetti

Source: Red and the Peanut

52. The Dead Poets

Society closes up its
doors:
entry is not permitted to
outsiders.

They create a world of
artisans, purported
geniuses,
sipping tea and critiquing
so-and-so's metrics,
etc.

Shameless feminists,
chauvinists, misogynists,
inept politicians, shockers,
potsmokers -
with a limbo-ing sexuality
for good
measure.

Yes, shun me from the
exalted doors:
you, who do not understand
true anguish;
you - who live to see your artless
names in
print:
you -

I am disgusted, revolted
by this lack of Truth,
and this chaotic
struggle for
fame.

You are a cheap wine,
clichéd and overwrought
at best,
bubbling at snooty parties in
NY;
you are the sour milk,
curdling in the
August sun.

6. Christmas in June

Misplaced by degrees,
this ornament will catch your eye
at certain angles –
this stuffed reindeer’s eye
will glint in such a way –

So even if you were not before
you will now

despite the misplacement of
our Christmas in June.
These trinkets, baubles, toys –
will light some sympathy in you

and you will come examine
these exotic fish-out-of-water
and hesitate

but after a few more visits
cannot resist –
succumbing, melting inside –
until the coins pass from
your hands
to ours
and seal
the deal.