Serenade from the Porch at the Parkdale Gem

1. I had a wisdom tooth pulled by a macho dentist at King and Dufferin whose nitrous machine didn’t work. Through the window I watched a woman in cut-off sweat shorts throw her red pumps at a guy in plaid pants while the dentist sewed up my 3 stitches.

He called me tough.

My lover kept the tooth in a small tube meant for cocaine in a necklace around her neck. I mistook her action for devotion when it was simply accessorizing.

2. The first day of a bruise.

A June bug is making out with the porch light again. 40 watts vs. Scarab beetle.

Repeat : a giant ladybug with vertigo.

Rhonda’s chihuahua barks at the ceramic bunny formed with willing hands to smile constantly. Leader of all porch ornaments, staring down the tiny shrubs, candy wrappers, water-logged paperbacks from the library at the end of the street. In the park the swing pines for WD-40.

I feel defeated pinching the bruise around its edge; my thumb and fingernail are making skinny hearts. Starving is not holy.

3. I’m nervous. Expecting sutures instead of flat skin

I’m waiting.

My eyebrows are giving me panic attacks.

4. Toronto Welcomes the Pope. Suddenly even the guy who punches people outside the 7-11 is a believer.

Pilgrims are selling memorabilia on my way to work at the cafe on Roncesvalles. Uniform red shoulder bags walking in packs, singing hymns. Their eyes announce We Are Coming to Get You. I drink too much coffee. It’s free. I blend it with Fair Trade sugar and cinnamon.

2 giant blue cups of water for the pregnant woman at table 2.

The cops sweep up undesirables—

please step back and allow the visitors to enjoy

the unobstructed view.

I sweep up the cafe floor.

At 3am on Church street, red-shouldered boys with Jesus T-shirts kiss each other on the steps outside the Second Cup.

Later they yell fucking dykes when we walk to Blockbuster to rent Ma Vie En Rose for the fourth time.

5. I almost died in a freight elevator on my way to get laid

by someone twice my age I couldn’t even really talk to.

I chewed my nails until they bled, watered down prayers when the box went black and the cables paused. Ridiculous faith when fingers crossed. I wish I may, I wish I might.

The click and whirr sound of being saved

by invention.

6. Today I kicked the bank machine

other peoples’ receipts stuck to my boot.