what i remember about montreal, 2011

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the radio was on when we were crossing the bridge
and you thought their french
sounded funny

trying to look around,
observe things
at stoplights
through chinatown
to the latin quarter

i remember getting bagels
and that cafe with all the plants
that was just perfect
a picture of a window
with rectangles of
construction paper
behind the glass,
evenly spaced
colours i liked

season colours-
things we wore-
my brown boots
and you in my
yellow sweater
often
a diner
sitting in the window booth
up front
coffee
and back then
i think we took it
with cream

walks
always walks
the spiral
staircases
the bricks paintings
on the walls
a shoestore named
yellow,
that sign OMMA
with the floral
letters

i think we took
your car
i assume
we went to a bakery
because that’s
what we love,
loved.

this city’s great
thinking yeah yeah
this is great
turning a corner and
yeah, maybe one day
i’ll move here

leaves dropping
in the backgrounds
of things-
a gentle
autumn snow

park bench
kinder egg
in all the pictures
your eyes, they’re closed

arriving, portland maine

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cigaretting up
on the fire escape
it’s january first.

renter’s insurance
our names
in ink
in target with a big red
shopping cart and furniture
folded up, undone
driving home lost
familiarity a gift
quiet
now just me and darling
the cat now
for a little
while

shoveling snow
is a lot of work
and there’s one paperwhite
bloom
in the window

walking through town
rosy coat to knees
up high right
on congress
local sprouts a house
mug a buck
twenty five across
the street a general store
i liked,
memory isolated –
soon went out
of business
after
that day i went in
looking for a screwdriver.

snow and sidewalks
made of red
bricks. napping not
knowing how
to get started
staring at new pale
walls fumbling
forgetting
things

nova scotia, september 2011

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going north
and then let’s
go farther-
halifax,
katie and abe
trans canada highway
trees forever
on both sides.

cape breton
cabot trail
big sighs
and quiet
looking
wooden
houses and boats
in the front yards
prairies
on top mountains
at meat cove
cheticamp,
iginosh
highlands
cove,
ocean playground.

middlehead trail
and waterfalls running
into the sea
my friend
in a red hood
giggling
and sometimes
we are just
seven
years old.

we take turns
driving, napping
your pearl earrings
avocado
in the grass

new brunswick wide
road small
hills, border
signs for bangor
lewiston auburn
almost home.

we did not see wild horses.
or moose.
i’m trying
to not feel disappointed
about that.

dreaming, november 2011

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at someone else’s
house i am falling
asleep, fires
in bedrooms people
yelling-

i am in a car,
a van
an old friend.
is wearing a vest
and grinning
having
the time of our lives
walking down
town i’m not sure
if i’m visiting him
or he me,
the colours
darkened, lights
are dimmed

in london.
passenger seat
almost night my zumi
camera up
to the window
recording it all
passing-
a carnival, trees
a theatre with large
murals passing
in blurs the car
with kayleigh,
she has printed out
maps and i hold them
up and say- see?
london streets
are all curving
and they change names
two three times.

we are going to lunch
at a table with yellow
flowers and i’m trying
to keep them
from falling
into the vase it’s
too big
and the flowers they
are small.

in london still
but it’s india.
a hotel bedroom
underground and i can’t
breathe right.
beds are big
and soft, thick
layers of dust
around windows,
somehow a breeze
coming in.
i’m there with O-lan
from “the good earth”
and i tell her
please, i’d like
to go see the land.
there are people sitting
around now, listening
to me. the room
has bright colours
and everyone is drinking tea.