Thursday 26 January 2012

Aspirations by Liz Worth


King St W & Portland; photo credit: Liis Toliao
4.

Persona amplified at the corner of King and Portland,
still early enough to pretend
the streets were only ours: holy our.
You stretched and caught the sun in
blond hairs low on your belly.
Panting, we let sentiment atrophy,
aspired to lightning.
Detour #1

We ran into R. wearing anorexia and Victorian boots. She’d been to the forest electric, had her pace timed by a rush of tongues.

We knew hers was a deceptive cadence, but we followed anyway through lost time and narcotic fascination.



This is from a poem by Liz Worth situated near a booth at King and Portland. It offers both a familiar and distancing view of a neighbourhood that's hosting a pack of suburban girls on a night out on the town.

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