A Poem A Day 9: “Bay Street, Toronto”

April 9, 2012

Bay street, Toronto

Beautiful faces and light reflecting glass windows,

downtown is like a caravan marching through

the pulsing veins of the concrete valley:

Every step leads to an expectation of

confetti, ticker tape, and cheers

placards declaring, “THE WORK DAY IS DONE.”

the taste of cotton candy on the tip

of my tongue

The air is filled with jubilation

and street meat

as I cross the busy streets

without a care.

A cloud passes and the complexions around me

Turn grim and grey;

spectacle turned procession.

Everyone looks like they haven’t chosen to

be here. Zig zag. Stop. Beep.

Yet here we are watching, being,

being watched

sweet turning to sour

gas exhaust and perfumed stores

cannot mask the flesh and bone

sex of the city

I smell the algae in the breeze

coming from the nearby lake.

The crowds become thinner;

dispersed sun-hatted tourists.

Giant clouds move away to reveal

Lone walker am I.

A conquering hero of the midday rush.

Photo by Daniel Scott (used under creative commons license) http://www.flickr.com/photos/danielle_scott/2772777518/sizes/l/in/photostream/

P.S.  I loved this piece by Christian Bök : The Morbidity of Conceptual Literature. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2012/04/the-morbidity-of-conceptual-literature/

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