Photo by Michael Niessl on Unsplash
Canada Water.
To reconvene my soles with that which made me an author
Oh, to Can the Town,
to tame the Thames would misdemean a plastic sound.
I’d’ve liked for you to come in the past tense
to the bridge with a brick stench
over Canada Water
I’d like to start a Canary arc, or
go where London’s falling
away from a wistful belonging.
Oh, to breathe the O2 at the start of time—
the homey fog would revive…
I surmise
such warmth
only comes forth
from the red clouds strung across the sky
that’ll always taint
Canada’s Water.
