But. I love this country so much.
I want to make
French Canadian sock puppets
In the back seat
Of a stolen rent-a-car. Driving.
Across the country
Gordon Campbell at the wheel, shaky
Ralph Klein riding shotgun
"pull over, gotta go scold the poor,
watch for cops."
Oh, but there is Copps.
They pick Sheila up hitching
at the side of the Trans Canada Highway.
Little Red Ridingless Hood.
It's Grimm Brothers and sisters.
Back at the clubhouse
mixing Walkerton cocktails
to numb him from the shame.
Watching Stephen Harper's Will You Marry a Conservative? reality
TV series. A real Canadian Idol.
The Church of the Reformed Conservative.
The only reform I want is electoral reform.
And no Leo Puddester,
Danny Williams does have a heart,
it's just as black as your hair.
But the blame belongs
Tory and Toryresque
A red kleptocracy passing
Over the country
like a wave of sick.
Cutbacks and kickbacks
The Red Menace.
Chairman Paul Martin.
With his Little Red Book.
That should come with crayons.
The wheels of abuse go round and round, round and round, round and round.
A captain of industry.
But can he pilot the ship?
They ask us to trust them like a warm blanket
knit by the woman
who raised your favourite uncle.
What is it about those guys
that makes us all nervous, Rex
The thinking person's
Whether by coincidence or serendipity,
or at the beckonings of obliging fate.
I want to be a bay dog.
Free to roam the blue
berry stained road.
I don't belong in a big house. But,
we could all use a bit more counter space