take away the tourists, the hipsters, the families
take away the seniors
take away the guitars, the bongos, the singers, the accordions
take away the homeless
take away the flowers, and lock up the mowers
take away the blind, whose vision of the place was illuminated by the smells of spilt Cheval Blanc, cigarette and charcoal barbeque
take away the water- drain it away- and plug up the fountain with cement
take away the first dates, the talkers, the shy, the too-cool-to-drink-non-organic-juice kids, the sex workers, the second, third marriages
take away the coffee cups and styrofoam boxes, wine bottles and green tops of Kiosque Mont Royal strawberries
take away the drugs
take away the music
take away the lights: Gut electricity from dépanneur fridges
take away the curd from La Banquise
you can’t take away how the light of fireworks fell through trees: How the branches split apart the light to produce nets of shadow, bending phosphorous light to tattoo blue faces black. When we met under the leaves.*
colour by Mugluck Parc Lafontaine, Montreal, 2013. Tous droits réservés Mügluck
words by Liam Lachance
wordandcolour 