Summer. Downtown Montreal,
Sunny, 7:00 a.m… There are
art galleries, museums nearby,
but our guide has selected a
French pastry shop—and me
On South Beach!
Sunny, 7:00 a.m… There are
art galleries, museums nearby,
but our guide has selected a
French pastry shop—and me
On South Beach!
My eye is red. Why?
Accept, let go.
Jazz Festival over. Let go.
A bit of Buddhism?
Accept, let go.
Jazz Festival over. Let go.
A bit of Buddhism?
We will, in all certainty, be taken
to yet another church—cathedral,
basilica, chapel, and so on. Oratory.
I am weary of gilded horizontal saints.
to yet another church—cathedral,
basilica, chapel, and so on. Oratory.
I am weary of gilded horizontal saints.
Not my choice, you know.
This is a controlled tour, with
experts at the helm!
Yesterday, they let us shop in
a maze-like underground mall
that was amazingly created by lifting
a church up from its foundation,
and then setting it
gracefully back down again.
I could have gone in to witness
that engineering feat, at least,
This is a controlled tour, with
experts at the helm!
Yesterday, they let us shop in
a maze-like underground mall
that was amazingly created by lifting
a church up from its foundation,
and then setting it
gracefully back down again.
I could have gone in to witness
that engineering feat, at least,
where "God" and "Super Man"
collide--or should it be...reside?
Instead, I followed the herd
to that glitzy commercial below-realm,
wishing I had bread crumbs
to find my way back to light.
But, no matter!
I found other landmarks,
memorized the turns,
then went into a Dollarama store
and, for some reason,
felt sudden joy at the sheer
number of familiar plastic things.
I stood in line with my few "loonies,"
bought a plastic bottle of cold water
and still another hat – black,
of course—and the day was gone.
Back home, this morning when I put it on, with its cheap shiny glint, and minimalized visor,
I decided I look beautiful in it:
You become what you believe.
7.20.10
to that glitzy commercial below-realm,
wishing I had bread crumbs
to find my way back to light.
But, no matter!
I found other landmarks,
memorized the turns,
then went into a Dollarama store
and, for some reason,
felt sudden joy at the sheer
number of familiar plastic things.
I stood in line with my few "loonies,"
bought a plastic bottle of cold water
and still another hat – black,
of course—and the day was gone.
Back home, this morning when I put it on, with its cheap shiny glint, and minimalized visor,
I decided I look beautiful in it:
You become what you believe.
7.20.10
3 comments:
Good one, Kay.
...stained glass or polished chrome,
The elbow grease of our good intentions.
--George Bilgere
Kay,
Beautiful and funny! thanks for taking us with you!
xo
W
In the underground mall underneath Sherbrooke St is just a block from where I lived when I attended McGill. You wouldn't think it was necessary but I appreciated the underground tunnels under McGill also when it was 10 below and tons of snow.
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