This cities traffic with its
flaunts its sophism with
expressive arguments composed of:
lurches, steps, hand waves, the occasional gentle
I step, you lurch. We lunge, you reverse.
You rev, we now.
Move go, and have.
You go, we move.
You lurch, I step.
Spokes spin (schk shck
shck shck shck).
I step as you lurch forward we’re caught in this
ritual of politeness, I hate this city.
This city—the hot fever dream of some pilgrim
built on a fucking rock
and now we all have to deal with the reputation
of “Canada’s nicest traffic.”
I’m telling you it’s
easier to jaywalk in a town where everyone behind a wheel
wants you squashed on the road like jam (Toronto)
or wants you squashed on the road like organic jam (Vancouver)
or wants you squashed on the road like confiture (Montreal).
Don’t build a city on some rock.