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.


By Shai Ben-Shalom

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