Sunday Poems 35: Looking at Pride

Yesterday’s pride parade here in Edmonton spent the morning setting up on the street underneath my balcony. I stood looking down at it in my dressing gown with my glass water bottle. People looked up at me and waved. I smiled back.

At 11AM, the call was made and the parade started marching. The first groups to march represented the following organizations: the Canadian Armed Forces, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, TD Canada Trust (bank), the New Democratic Party (Alberta’s ruling party), and the Edmonton Police Service. I shook my head and went back inside.

Sundays are for walking around in the heat, glowing with affection. It’s the one week out of the year when little green caterpillars hang from trees suspended by long strings of silk. You’re on a path through the river valley and discover that three of the creatures are clinging to your shirt, wiggling, choosing their next move. A caterpillar operates so differently from humans as to be almost incomprehensible. Below is a poem; share it with a friend who would like it. As always, I’m here if you want to talk. Have a great week, everybody.


Crash

when the wind starts up my bedroom door always opens
getting it closed – hearing the click – is almost impossible.

i went to the store to get spinach for dinner.

pain in the abdomen
pain in the head
pain in the keyboard.

on to the next move.

you’re looking out the window and it’s ok to look out the window.

browsing animal adoption websites for a hairless cat.

it hurts.

i’ve made something.

once a day
for a while.

we did it.

together we did it.

it’s you and i
it’s our fervour.

it’s our passion for the subject.

almost
almost reaching across
the room
for you.

i close my eyes
and we’re on the floor
kissing.

the television
is playing crash
by cronenberg.

i’m older than i’d imagined.

it’s good to be here with you.


Originally published June 5, 2016.

Theodore Fox is a poet living on Treaty Six land in Canada.
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