Sunday, 19 July 2015

Sunday Poem


All afternoon wide Port Moody's schooner
baits my interest. Lithest, no schooner
clips along beside her, each schooner
daft as a flat ale, or some Moses schooner
edging out Nile-lazy. Hot gusting swells, and schooner
facile in the morning grows afternoon gauche, tho' schooner
given half a chance might schooner
half a chance redeem, I chide. Hitting Big Schooner
Island out near Halifax. Or Schooner
Joliette I imagine whale watching, tall Schooner
Kootenays, or Confederation Schooner,
legislative big bateau Senate Schooner
marking off the long territories, Schooner
northwinding runs out of breath, Arctic schooner
opposed, motion melted and defeated, Schooner
parliament won't let anyone new aboard the schooner:
quaint policy that'll bite back schooner
rather than later. I look again, blue schooner
slipping down the dime, jingling schooner
to jingling schooner, & think of old Mac, one schooner
under the flag and crown. Bowing out, schooner
veers portside at the thought. Then bright red schooner,
wagon-red, grabs the knots Schooner
X laid out, like Bell's tin cable. Schooner
yowling starboard, then flanked, schooner
zinger received, copy: never go it alone, schooner.

From Concordia University Magazine (Spring 2015) by Jacqueline Hanna. Hanna received Concordia University's 2014 Irving Layton Award for Poetry, handed out each year to an undergraduate student.  

No comments: