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Canada! I’m Sorry!

I am trying to step on the moon

but my boss is calling to yell at me.

He says you didn’t think enough

about Canada. You were supposed to write

about everything, and you wrote about everything

but Canada. The place where he is saying this

is inside my phone, which is inside

my dream, which is upside my blue

pillow, the new sheets, the old fuzzy blanket,

the comforter I could have till

I die, depending on when I die,

the matching desk that came to me in a box.

And I am trying to step on the moon,

and no one has ever stepped on the moon,

so it is very important the step look right:

the way I leap, the way I touch,

the kind of footprint

I leave. But I am sleeping, in my room,

and my boss reminds me: Canada.

I say I’m on the moon; kind of busy right now.

I’m on the moon; how can you say I have forgotten Canada?

In fact I can see Canada, from all the way up here,

well not topography or even her

outline, my eyes are not telescopes, but I know she’s there

isn’t that enough? He says no.

He says you are not looking.

He says you forgot, because you were too tired. I had to sleep

I tell him, in order to step on the moon. He says you forgot

Canada because you were busy on the moon. I say you did this

gave me this hunger to step. Canada, I am so sorry,

I am not being soft with you, I am not close enough;

I closed my eyes to you; I went to the moon.