Neopoet.com

sleep heavy on that pull out

your postcards of far away sticky putty to the wall

your downtown call-in-center clothes

where you work your magic in that cubicle

you described

Bi-lingual with that heavy french accent

to me all your paragraphs sound like

a question when you finish them in that

single long breath

we are seperate by that brown curtain

i sleep by the baby grand

and the bay window

you are in the front by the great brown

desk

the rest of the tenants are upstairs

Eglington and Yonge

you had me draw a turtle design on

your stomach one day with that

dark blue ball point

my right wrist resting on your

pubic mound as i drew the

fanciful linework below your

sunken navel

you showed them your

"tatoo"

you had to lie flat on the

carpet under that old

reading lamp

while i knelt beside you

your arm was scarred where

the dog attacked you when

you were delivering flyers

one summer to make

money   the jagged

white blemishs of flesh

encircling the muscle

funny how I remember you

now years and years later

you roller bladed right through

the opening of the curtian one

day scaring the shit out of

me 

funny how memories slip

in     All because i saw a

pair of  "Wheelie shoes"  at

that equipment store

for sale   the ones kids

buy that have rollers

in the heels

they can roll along

if they pull up their

toes in their shoes

roll on Quebec woman

where ever you are today

  O