The Canadian by Bossy

He drives a Zamboni down the sidewalk,

screaming of the Leafs.

You squint up towards the summer sun,

expecting a nude-y tree.

The ketchup chips are littering his front, the syrup glistening,

you watch your step, expecting ice,

to explain this choice of mobility.

“Eh.  You there?  Can I sneak by?”

he’s conversing with a red-sweatered moose.

Or is that raccoon?  Or a flock of geese?

All the mammalia stereotypes run together.

The Zamboni inches closer now,

allowing a teeny peak.

You want to ask for the passenger side,

as this ride looks serene.

You’ve never been to Peggy’s Cove,

but she definitely sounds polite.

You’ve never seen the Wheat King,

or the oil sands or the peaks.

But today is not your day,

to skip town with The Canadian,

for today you must root here

and allow the Zamboni to glide on.

Photo by Donnie Rosie on Unsplash

Published by

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.