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Les Bares

Oh Canada


This is what happens when clumsily knotted aspirations

come undone You camp illegally in the rest area

of the Bad River reservation In the middle of the night

almost apologetic tribal cops For your own good

order you to leave You load your bicycle and pedal

in the pensive moonlight musing

how romantic this nameless Wisconsin country road

with its full moon would be if only she were here

But she is somewhere in Greece squeezing the sun

a world away from the quiet reflecting eyes

that stalk these nocturnal woods suspiciously spying

a lone bicyclist with a dying flashlight

You cross over the border of the reservation of last resort

and burrow into your sleeping bag at a fire lane

much nearer to train tracks then you know

In your sleep of snarled traffic and red lights

your dream of America implodes with Vietnam

a lost draft deferment with tin soldiers and Nixon coming

with smoke and ashes cities burning and

with once daring to have a dream

—until tremors rumble ten yards from your head

A train hauling pulpwood lumbers and squeals

over loose train track ties thumped by wheel wobbling bogies

as if they were the pedals of a church organ stomped

by a heavy footed organist And with America lost

in the dark and your love for it convulsing

with the wail of a train horn this jilting wasteland

shakes empty and aching as you straddle your bicycle

Is this the road north It might as well be raining

 

Les Bares lives in Richmond, Virginia. He was the winner of the 2023 Meridian Journal Short Prose Prize. He also won the 2018 Princemere Poetry Prize. His work has or will appear in New York Quarterly, The Madison Review, The Midwest Review, Cream City Review, Southword (Ireland,) Stand (England,) and other journals.





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