Back to Hochelaga (Poem)

She prowled the alleys
Of the grocery store
Knowing exactly
What to get
From the bottom
Shelves
And the bargain bins
The end of row
Skids

With the certainty
Of someone
Who had to budget
Her hunger
A few times
Too many

Advertisements

A Seven Hour Road (Poetry)

There is a special kind of darkness
That only exists
In the great white north

And the empty road
You find yourself upon again
A constant reminder
That
You now had
Seven hours of it
(All of it)
Ahead of you
Before getting anywhere
And that getting dumped
In Saguenay
Was a very bad idea to start with

This was made worse
(Of course)
By the knowledge
That your
(Very limited)
Playlist

Of hearbreak songs
Would play
Over and over again
As the radio waves
Have no reach here.

You are desperate
For a drink
Or a cigarette
As the endless space
Ahead of you
Knows only a rare
Set of headlights
Coming in the opposite direction

To remind you
That you are not in limbo
Just yet
Or perhaps
(And even worse)
That
Limbo
may not be a place
Where you find yourself
All alone
After all.

Eight million
Square miles
Of pure
And empty space
In Northern Canada
And only one person
That matters
Right now

The road takes a curve
Up ahead
Where
The black spruce
That grow here
(And only here)
Know how to make it
So dark
And silent
It feels like hell

Another set
Of yellow lines
Dissapear
Quickly
Underneath you

Again.

And there are
Six hours more
Before civilisation

Switch songs
And press on the gas

You sigh and silently wish
For a deer
Or a moose
To be crossing the street
And smash itself

Into your dashboard

As you’d give
anyting
For anything
to happen
Right now.

Canadian Poetry (poem)

Diligently cut
The vegetables
Zucchinis
Tomatoes
Peppers
Of different colours
Crack some eggs
Add
Some salt
And spices
To whatever cheeze you had left
Put on some music
And kick off the frying pan

Beanie hat on
And a hoodie
Inside too
We’ve reached that point
Again

When
The
Small
Daily rituals
That keep the body fit
Also keep the mind afloat
Until your next move
Is finally upon you
A few weeks from now.

It’s a waiting game at this point

So
You pour the coffee
Have a sip
Cringe
As it
Needs sugar
And cream

Look out the window
The frost is already
Spreading against the edges.
Cold sneaking in against cracks
When
The winds are fierce
And you
Know very well
This place
Will be hell
In only a matter of weeks.