Ode to Emily Carr
by Jordan Williamson
If there is more, it is this:
waves pick their teeth on the rocks.
Somewhere Emily Carr is taking a bath
in a vacant condo.
It was given; there is no time—
bluffs crumble into the ocean
saying what we cannot hear,
adding & subtracting from the whole
sleeping rough in the margin.
Oh, Emily
double me on your bike to the store,
buy me yerba mate
from the Granville Island Tea Company,
hold me at knifepoint on the SkyTrain
regale me with fish scales & songbird,
make of me
everything the woods made of you
& more.