Montreal, The Ruined City

These cities they smell
Of advertisement, new degrees
Of invasions of privacy
The flashing lights

Do not complete me
The anonymous crowds
Do not seem reasonable
These cities they

Have forgotten how to smile
I am alone in them
While surrounded by
People on their mobile outlets

Each connected to their
Private reality, which is artificial
They click ‘like’ on an
Imaginary event, a poor distraction

For living, and I realize
I am impoverished socially by this
The augmented reality is
Digital, and I could be anywhere

But do I want to be here?
In a culture, that refuses
To speak the common tongue
English, in a city with a poor economy

These cities they seem to be
Getting more impoverished
As the decades celebrate
Cheap technological progress
And the provincial politics
Of the human condition continues.

Like Memories of Seasons

I’d kiss the spring
For death’s immorality
Is near as the cherry’s rising

Sun, at the core of hope
I no longer have faith
Nor does grief carry

The flag of my destiny
I’d kiss the sea’s laughter
If I lived near the ocean again

It’s been too long
Since I knew my ancestors
In my own blood

The yellow explosions
Of Autumn, only leave
Joy in the middle of a dazzling

Symmetry of experience
That is gone too soon
With memories suspended like

The collapsed birch branches
Of solemn winter
There will come a time
When all my kisses have expired.