Field Journal, entry #2: April 17, 2007

(not so funny as the last... I apologize in advance!)


I see your eyes, Toronto
the way you hid them from
me, the way
you look at
nothing, to remind me
that this city (these cities)
could swallow me up and I could
forget my name,
even,
forget that I'm alive.

But I have too much
momentum for you now,
Toronto,
too much speed,
sometimes faster than
I know how to move.

But you've got your big-city style,
your nights,
grey seasons, and
you've got your dark corners, too,
your alleyways,
tenements,
skeletons in your
mighty oak closets,
Toronto.

Your many nations
float by me on the streets,
all of us silent
under your hum your
hum-hum-brahma-hum,
your bleach-blond hair
you're
ummmmm...

trailing off already and I can't
hear you quite as clear though
I'm still here, Toronto,
in your streets still
sleeping between your grey sheets,
Toronto

I've been your
unfaithful lover and
now I'm going home.