We Will Be Fish (excerpts)

Papaver Odourless

At Larder Lake, where the children are water-repellent,
we had already paid the strolling tax and filed for blue skies.

We pushed down the grass, ignored the benches,
and stumbled past the garden gates.

I bent to pick you a government flower.
You smelled it and smiled, but it didn’t smell.

I plucked you another from the oil fields
and while you sniffed at it gently,

said thank you and curtseyed
I knew it was also an odourless species.

You brought something black up from your mouth
placed it in your palm,

then hid it in your breast pocket
and said, come kiss me while my mouth is empty.

After we finished
I popped a long strip of red paper caps

with my thumbnail
and asked if you liked wrestling.

***
Published in:
We Will Be Fish
PistolPress, 2008