when we drive around in our balloon car, everyone just wants to know whether it can float
I reassure them:
yes, it will ferry you across the bow river — with little turbulence, from Bowness to Quarry Park — as long as
1. your socks match
2. you are very tender with the clutch
we got rabbit-paw bibimbap
we got strawberry pie
we got tallow and waltzes
come in come in
its too cold its too cold
to be by yourself
to be
by your
self
unfurl your bouquet of grass-fed fingers
put them inside my palms for safekeeping
let me take a spin around in your veins until all the snow is gone
your colours are so bendy and warm
we love to eat jambalaya at open lane swim
our bodies are attuned to the vespers of the filtration system — Mounting verse on verse
our sugary mollusk hearts are so alert and so full
in the early mornings we take candy to the campaigners:
to each, a confection befitting their natural hair colour
before placing them into the receiving hands
we sound out each title — Taw-fee, Lick-rish, Chalk-lette, Jube Jube
and in turn we are entreated to a kiss on both cheeks
no day has ever been so sweet
in spite of everything being so at odds
mother of vinegar courts winer rye
sets aside a labeled cabinet for each caress of cold wind
for fear of misplacing, or forgetting
the feeling of moving through the frozen grasses
together
with somebody so long-loved
who is yet a complete stranger
to himself — and everyone at Pizza Hut, and at the ocean
in my springtime, in my timbre
with my palms, callus-thatched
tell me if you come across my gloves next time you are at shawarma king
I think they are probably under a table, or behind the garbage
I can't hear you over all the purring motors at the park
and in the leaves
I get tripped up, tangled in your forests of fake ferns
all of my vertices are crying out for coffee and cupcakes
in the extended season
roses in the sock drawer
tulips in the fridge
my hands are all rotten
and you still hold them
open-mouth kidder district qualifiers tonight at Timmy's, Dalhousie
free Tim-bit 10pack for all who wait the line
bring yer best pants too
and yer best mask for kissing thru
I know you know I shave your legs with my razor
I told you to cover the rice
you don't need to be collegial when we are just walking
we can have a ritual love
I would stay up all night just to hear the way you pronounce your p's when you dream-talk