luv song for rob ford (a work in progress) Rob Ford wuz here – graffiti in toronto ravine ever smelt the early morning smell of green in deep ravines seen the flash of red cardinal or the red winged black bird poised for flight the bushy- tailed fox slinking away through the trees have you crested davenport hill on bathurst stood on what was once the shoreline seen the city slope down to the lake the cn tower standing at phallic attention ever waited on queen for the bright-eyed cyclops trundling along on a wintry evening shoulders hunched up above your ears seen the spadina car move through continents as it traverses its north south axis the ossington bus carrying africa on its back making its way up to eglinton have you stirred up the dust under the trees at queen’s park at afrofest as the many strands of africa coalesce to listen to the beat thought lost long ago listened to mapfumo cherished chiwese as tuku music talked back to you walked any of the many trails in high park that make green mockery of the city watched the ducks being ducks in their iridescent duckishness stood under the garish lights of kinko’s seen another face of the city at 2 in the morning all pretence gone making images black white & coloured walked along bloor as tired shopkeepers put out their garbage bought walnut cakes from the korean store an ice cream from baskin robbins across from christie pitts a falafel from gazal stood in line at the bloor cinema borrowed a video from queen video or suspect that earns its name honestly had a beer at the brunswick late night nachos at sneaky dees have you ever smelt the early morning smell of this city familiar as a lover’s smell as it rolls over groans sighs and lets her many many lovers loose some too busy to see her virtues some only too willing to curse her flaws others indifferent all linked willing or unwilling moving through yet another day in the city have you stood cheek by jowl with the young man you don’t trust ever too close for comfort to the suit with her brief case offered your seat to the old jamaican lady hugging her bible close as the street car rocks its way across st. clair sat across from the young bay street type working or pretending to in these times that try then test the best in us ever seen schools disgorge their screaming laughing we- are-the-world populations onto playgrounds loved these hard streets with your feet marching against the bomb against war against apartheid for a woman’s right to her body for men women & children we don’t know a long long way away against the many myriad ways power runs amok holds us hostage as it does today making us all communist have you wined on university to the beat of a caribana band watched the pride of the that other nation unfurl its rainbow for us will you can you have you cycled or walked ever across the viaduct spanning the valley of the don looked down to where many have embraced too soon what comes to all as the city reaches out to bind them to it to us with tendrils of steel eaten a roti on bathurst have you sat at dooney’s when it was drank an espresso or capuccino and watched the world saunter by paid homage to the french in upper canada and eaten a poutine the only place you will find gravy today gone up to eglinton where sometimes wanton bullets have sped with brutal disregard for a people who have survived so much had a patty or dumplings on spadina a somoza on gerrard seen the young students from central tech edgy in their youth their energy flooding bloor and bathurst at noonday or raised your eyes up up to where moriyama’s vision of space and light creates a visual prayer to books at yonge & bloor to learning without ads or logos &draws the every in us to the lure of words have you ever taken the pulse of this city felt it quicken as the world’s rhythms join the first heart beat of the mississauga to allow for a moment when the possible moves closer walked along davenport road clotted with cars on an early morning and listened if you walked softly quietly enough to the tramp tramp of the first peoples who first bent the grass into path then trail followed by farmers to defy the historical odds against them & remind us all that we are newcomers to turtle island have you ever wandered through kensington where jew and black met recognised the each in other where not that long ago you could buy a squawking chicken for sunday dinner and had a rugla along college where the unia was a refuge for black folk unwelcome then in this city have you ever been to a black church talked to a black mother any mother who has lost a son a daughter explored a schwarma on yonge understood how the frightened the persecuted the talented have brought a fire to this place this space still held in trust seven generations into the future followed the ghost of garrison creek as it winds its way underground past the lcbo at st clair & alberta under christie pits all the way down to the lake seen the don come alive again the lake welcome us once more have you cycled around this city bike lanes or not sparring with cars taken a street car on an early morning towards the sunrise along queen to the beach sat on the shore listened to the gulls smelt that smell we know from before time when we scavenged beaches for food taken the ferry across the blustery lake with its cargo of children bikes lovers nudists hikers caribana partiers or just plain folks living in the moment that is this place this space have you heard ever nusrat fateh ali khan summon angels at harbourfront send them floating across the lake all the way back to mecca or david rudder invoke our father through africa have you will you can you hear fado meet funk see reggae and klezemer shake hands laugh as bhangra sits down eats with calypso and chutney rock with folk and r& b as zouk and hip hop break bread to the strains of mozart & beethoven here in this place they and we call a meeting place t dot the rappers say the place we all love to hate that is still home have you ever been at the parkdale tavern when it was felt the energy crackle of an evening when welfare cheques arrived stood back behind the yellow line in the subway waiting for blast of air down the tunnel given a looney to the homeless man standing outside the station watched the squirrels’ tails purl the wires as they prepare for the long hard of winter heard the city exhale one long sweet green breath as spring enters grieved with a city for shoeshine boys young girls taken too soon young men too angry to talk except through guns laughed at the army sent to rescue us from snow and nooobody wishing for a viaduct across the growing chasm between jane finch and rosedale the bridle path and flemingdon while regent gentrifies itself have you seen how the many tongues of a fractious world ever more fragmented cleave communities out of a hard strange city licking shaping them lovingly into little towns did you have you would you ever dream a dream a city on a hill call it a meeting place call it say its syllables echo its name with bullhorns for when the pulse slows and anomie curdles into anger when the train has left with the gravy that never was anything but us all that will be left is rob ford wuz here m. nourbeSe philip