Paper Pennants

 When I was a young child

my brothers had a hockey game

with metal men

and a marble.

Each team had

a paper pennant

like a challenge laid boldly

before the other teams and the larger world.

I liked the Toronto Maple Leafs

in their sweaters as blue as God's eyes.

The goalie's smile never faltered

though he was hit with the marble a thousand times.

In a dream

I see that goalie coming up the tunnel

in his blue sweater and big brown pads

fearless, changeless, continuously happy.

He takes to the ice

to tend his green mesh net

while we stare up from beneath the surface

like ads or circles or lines or dots.

When I was a young child

there were Red Wings and Rangers

Blackhawks and Bruins

a marble, a goalie, and tilted ice that seemed perfectly fair at the time.

_____

Canada Heart

The chime of your kiss

Made me forget the chalk 

that marked the stitch-line

where madness

met easy charm.

I don't wear vanilla scent

anymore--it reminds me of

your flocked, bread-crumb skin

the braille I

got lost in.

Toronto has Billy Bishop Airport--

you can fly in,

fill a bag at the duty-free

then cab it

to Yonge Street.

We made love at the Double Tree

with a balcony

to waver on the edge of, after.

Oh, Canada--

Canada heart

is the half sweet, half bitter

half bustling,

half empty landscape where

missionaries say,

"I knew her."

That is where I found this poem, north of Yellowknife,

and south of solace not looked for anymore. 

_______

For Word Garden Word List--Paige Ackerson-Kiely

Music: Gordon Lightfoot Affair On 8th Avenue

Happy Canada Day! (repost)

Oh Canada,

Our home and native land

True patriot's love

At all thy son's command.

With glowing hearts,

We see thee rise,

The True North strong and free.

From far and wide,

Oh, Canada,

We stand on guard for thee.

God keep our land

Glorious and free

Oh, Canada, we stand on guard for thee

Oh, Canada, we stand on guard for thee!

Happy Canada Day from down south in Detroy-it, eh? :-)
_______

Figure 8's On A Frozen Pond

He told me they were hiding, he and his wife and son,
when the air ripped, his eardrums ruptured and by the time he got to his feet,
his house was gone and he wasn't married anymore.

I set his broken arm, treated his gashed forehead. 
I asked him his name, but I don't think he answered.
His son is here, as are so many. Some will survive and wander off.

I was trained as a nurse in a hospital in France, with a job promise
back home in Quebec. I am multi-lingual:
I can say "You're going to die," in seven languages.

I am slight. My movements are deliberate.
I was never any help in our backyard hockey games, growing up. 
Now, I am as healthy as a chambered bullet.

I thought he was blind for a minute, but he was only in shock.
Once, I saw a lightning-struck tree next to a frozen pond where I was skating. 
I put my arms out. Ta da. I will save this guy's arm, stop his head from bleeding.

You can see the tracers. All this death, it gets into your head,
the blood forever under my bitten nails.
Things bodies were never intended to withstand come from the air,
sent by strangers, wiping heartbeats from the face of the earth.

"Would you like to see your son?" I don't add, "while there's still time."
He is ambulatory and triple-oriented. He is blown up, within himself.
We pick our way around the cots, shelves, and treatment stations.

A tv is on, powered by generator. We pass by it.
Someone is talking about the war. My patient can't hear a word.
Here is his boy. I smile at him out of old habit, gesture at a box where he can sit.

I have been here six months. These people, they shiver and cough,
hemorrhage from catastrophic wounds, ask for water, go still.
I will go back to Canada in January, empty and silent,

Healthy as a chambered round.
_______

For Karin's "A Glance At Narrative" challenge at Real Toads.


 

The Canadian Space Program

The Canadian Space Program languishes.

They can barely coax a four seater as far as Yellowknife, let alone launch a space station.

All Canadians drag a heavy anchor of shame behind them, because of this.



Imagine if Ottawa established a vibrant new agency, and Canadians pushed towards the stars!

Imagine handsome strong men and beautiful capable women dressed in uniforms which honor the fabled Leafs and Habs with their blue and red colors!

Imagine transmissions coming in from amazing new worlds, in both English and French, eh?

Sure, no one would have any idea what those excitable French were saying, but so what?

Alors! Allons nous!



Some chick and her cats are launched towards Mars.

They travel at umpty billion kilometers per hour, but it feels to them as if they are floating like dandelion fuzz.

Canadians pour into the streets, cheering.

In an access of enthusiasm, they take Detroit and Buffalo, and launch them into space as well.

Soon there are Timbits on the moon.

Can anything stop the Canadians?



It is discovered that the dust of the lunar surface is just like snow.

The 2018 Winter Games are awarded to the moon, under the auspices of Canada!

Drunken lumberjacks shout and pummel each other in a spontaneous expression of joy and national pride.

Winnipeg, gloriously inspired, brings the Stanley Cup home to Canada, and they don't even have a team!

All across the north, it is a new day.



From space, the chick and her cats broadcast on Christmas Day.

"In-fucking-credible!" she reports, and the news media repeats these now famous words endlessly.

It's better than a visit from the old-ass Queen of England any day.

This could be your legacy, Canadians!

Up! To work!

To the very heavens!

We have lift-off!!!

Oh hell yeah.

________

Canada

Canada becomes belligerent.

Led by Wayne Gretzky, the aggressive new expansionist regime sends its armies pouring across the border into Minnesota.

So many Lutherans!

The land of ten thousand lakes becomes the new Poland, overrun by its neighbor and vanquished in a week.

Truth be told,

The Minnesotans barely look up from their hockey games,

Most of them believing they were already Canadian anyway.

Moose peer out of the woods, amazed!

Next, the Gretzkyist government in Ottawa sets its sights on Michigan.

The White House, occupied elsewhere, shrugs.

The RCMP rounds up the governor and her cabinet;

A kangaroo court is convened.

The mayor of Detroit escapes by night, with the help of his disgraced predecessor.

Investigating agents, sent in from Toronto,

Discover that the Red Wings are actually Swedish!

Apple pie is banned.

Donuts appear everywhere!

Canada, shrouded in snow and mystery,

Is a riddle to most Americans.

The invaders, with their strange accents, mobilize from Detroit,

Which they call "Detroy-it."

Ohio trembles.

Exotic French-speaking women, wearing half the creatures of the forest around their shoulders,

Hypnotize the world and neutralize resistance.

Can anything stop the Canadians?

Americans, driven nearly mad at the prospect of having nothing but "The National" to watch at ten o'clock,

Wonder,

Will Cincinnati fall?

Atlanta?

Will Miami be annexed and renamed New Hamilton?

Gretzky gloats.

The White House wobbles but does not fall down.

In Detroit, the puppet government reports temperatures in centigrade.

Confusion!

Upheaval!

Queen Elizabeth on the money!

Loonies resting in every palm.

Regardez! La guerre est ici!

__________

My Mash Note To The RCMP

The RCMP is notified

Of serious crimes

In northern climes.

Saskatchewan just isn't there--

RCMP suspects

Grizzly bears.

Ottawa is sorely vexed--

What's up out west?

Is Manitoba next?

Toronto has run out of maple leafs--

Alberta's low on

Indian chiefs.

Montreal has a certain je ne sais quoi--

And is being held hostage

By Patrick Roy.

To Newfoundland, RCMP is sent

To find out where

That half hour went,

And also to work on a spate of crimes

Originating in

The maritimes.

Oh Canada, home and native land,

RCMP

Always gets their man.

Mounties in black boots and uniforms red,

Any chance you'd pursue

This woman instead?

_______