DEAR MAYOR (a poem for Rob Ford)


I imagine skinning you
and you romp around the city
guts only

we won’t save taxes
think of the costs
protecting your insides

dear Mayor we stretch your skin
a blanket around us
keeps us warm for winter

we come and go through orifices
I won’t make the orifice of the mayor joke
but I just did

dear Mayor
I think about grief

then that pinging sound
when everyone uses your stretched skin
to trampoline

babies there are babies
we bounce
I’m thinking only of the babies

we bounce
and the little pink heads which break
the clouds

and then
dear Mayor
the rain