A Sunday Poem — “July 1st”

 

Went downtown this Canada Day

to join the celebration.

 

A girl wrapped in red-and-white sold three flags

for two dollars, five for three.

She wanted my money.

 

A street performer had his open guitar case

in front of him.

He wanted my money.

 

A juggler approached the crowd,

holding his hat.

He, too, wanted my money.

 

By the pub, a sign invited me to all-I-can-eat-wings

for six dollars.

They only wanted my money.

 

At the lemonade stand,

four dollars could get me a small cup, mostly ice.

They really wanted my money.

 

Tired of the assault on my wallet,

I waived a taxi to go back home.

The driver nodded, reaching for the metre.

 

(Editor’s note: poet Shai Ben-Shalom, an Israeli-born biologist, examines current events in the Blacklock’s tradition each and every Sunday)

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