"Every Day" poetry project: Day 8.

1. In Station St. Henri


this yesterday's-coffee-grey
day-lack metro hum and
crowd-press while an
iPod struggles for
transcendence
ceiling-ward past the
busker,

and
along the great
triangle of
gold-yellow tile
de-
scending in
to three-storey
underground at
Place St. Henri is the
sunlight,

rattling off concrete and dream-
glowing your
eyes.




2.

leaf falls onto
pavement nowhere
else to fall

Serge Gainsborough too
loud in your
ears but not
loud enough never
loud e
nuff

the city is a
forest a
jungle it resists ev
ery
effort to
manage it
grows wild at ev
ery
turn every
corner

we push back the
edges but it
sneaks into each
nook every
seam

see, a

red leaf a
lone
falls onto
sidewalk:

pedestrians
traffic
iPod
pigeons peck at crumbs
October
brittle-cold
air a.m.




3.
The city is a
sauvage-land
forest i wear
soft moccasins to
make no sound i
paint my face
concrete
grey,
gather my
meats and herbs with
fixéd eyes while an
ambulance races from
Westmount to
St. Henri and the
river of traffic flows on
past a crisis that
goes other
wise mostly
unre-
marked.




4.

Three
cats and
wine-red
chinese paper
lantern
laide but sheet-covered couch and a
kitsch
en that lets you
spy on the
bathroom if you
wanted
to and the
shared-groggy
mornings by
coffee-boil the
sun-yellow nasturtiums that
began as some seeds a
block up the
street the words to
share in the
heat and in win
ter's com
ing
but it goes mostly
unremarked.