hopping
to a series of fresh starts
maybe when we make it to iceland cheryl’ll realize montreal ain’t so much paradise as a pit stop cuz she could be down the block like she used to be before we cropped out our partners who were too overwrought. fuck maybe i’ll realize montreal is cheaper & a fresher start for me, i’ll replace centretown with plateau & go by my middle name like i planned when i began university.
most likely none of this’ll happen (nothing ever happens) but hey it’s nice to dream. cheryl does her best to camouflage my insecurities & reminds me she’ll mop up the coffee i spill when i’m too neurotic in the morning & whatever else, no questions. it takes five years to tell someone you love them without coming close to fucking them.
(cheryl checks in periodically) none of this worked like i thought it would & is anyone really happy i mean i’ve only got so much energy & so many people need saving & ottawa’s so goddamn windy in december. remember when we talked about BC (mostly me)? i hear it’s warmer & the mountains make it seem like you can climb higher than the city. wouldn’t it be nice to see blue shade from the balcony every morning?
yeah it would (cheryl comforts me), i bet it would buddy.
don’t test me
streetlights don’t reach beneath the pike at night. headphones drown tire sounds that skid over the curb & plaster me as fresh splatter for the mural painted by under-privileged children.
call all the friends who haven’t blocked my number & some who have. voicemail greetings explain various excuses for unreachability. the quickie puts out a sign when it sees me cross the street from all the cigarette purchases i’ve extended into therapy.
do you feel me? i walk slow so my steps don’t startle strangers. maybe we head in the same direction & share a few words, maybe spoon & weep for hours till i feel like i might sleep.
lights on basement suites remind me people feel like me or at least don’t care about electricity. everyone i get to know over more than coffee tells me how their days decompress like holes in an air mattress. when you’ve looked down from blue mountains so many bodies need to break your fall.
maybe when we make it to iceland cheryl’ll realize montreal ain’t so much paradise as a pit stop cuz she could be down the block like she used to be before we cropped out our partners who were too overwrought. fuck maybe i’ll realize montreal is cheaper & a fresher start for me, i’ll replace centretown with plateau & go by my middle name like i planned when i began university.
most likely none of this’ll happen (nothing ever happens) but hey it’s nice to dream. cheryl does her best to camouflage my insecurities & reminds me she’ll mop up the coffee i spill when i’m too neurotic in the morning & whatever else, no questions. it takes five years to tell someone you love them without coming close to fucking them.
(cheryl checks in periodically) none of this worked like i thought it would & is anyone really happy i mean i’ve only got so much energy & so many people need saving & ottawa’s so goddamn windy in december. remember when we talked about BC (mostly me)? i hear it’s warmer & the mountains make it seem like you can climb higher than the city. wouldn’t it be nice to see blue shade from the balcony every morning?
yeah it would (cheryl comforts me), i bet it would buddy.
don’t test me
streetlights don’t reach beneath the pike at night. headphones drown tire sounds that skid over the curb & plaster me as fresh splatter for the mural painted by under-privileged children.
call all the friends who haven’t blocked my number & some who have. voicemail greetings explain various excuses for unreachability. the quickie puts out a sign when it sees me cross the street from all the cigarette purchases i’ve extended into therapy.
do you feel me? i walk slow so my steps don’t startle strangers. maybe we head in the same direction & share a few words, maybe spoon & weep for hours till i feel like i might sleep.
lights on basement suites remind me people feel like me or at least don’t care about electricity. everyone i get to know over more than coffee tells me how their days decompress like holes in an air mattress. when you’ve looked down from blue mountains so many bodies need to break your fall.
a.m. kozak is a social worker currently living in Ottawa.