Up North
Parties, soft jazz,
creamy éclairs, smooth coffee,
icy citron pressé.
French, français—
sexy, soothing.
Cafés are smoky—dense,
sombre.
My love, mon amour,
my Alex is there,
je l’aime beaucoup.
A new nationalism,
a new Canadian,
a comfort one doesn’t
find in France,
where no one smiles
or says “bonjour.”
That crisp air,
soft city lights,
the smell of sweet grass
wild blanc daisies.
Combinations of kind
North American and sophisticated
French culture.
Light, cool rain
beating upon my sill,
soft [...]
