top of page

"Wish I Were Here" by Penny Sarmada



I must have that kind

of face: everywhere

I go people always stop

me for directions


I tell tourists how to get to Kensington Market

for wild blueberry pie, vintage bags and ganja,

workman’s clothes and secondhand guitars and

the reggae, the djembe, the flaming gay parade and

ugli fruit in the Marcus Garvey sweltering summer.

I tell them it’s Spa-DYNA not Spa-DEENA and

if anyone asks me 你能給我指路嗎? I can point


the way


I must look like someone who knows south

from east and where the streetcars stop and where

there’s a good place for cheap vegan lunch though

I am detached, a hovering illusion watching over

Augusta Ave like a billboard with floodlit smiles for

a Vietnamese dental clinic because there’s nowhere

else I come from and nowhere else


to go


When you’re lost inside there is no screaming

red arrow on a map >>> YOU ARE HERE!

When you’re a broken flower that’s lost its scent,

nectar drained and pollen strewn, you no longer

attract the honey bee, you pick through the fallen

petals, crumpled, torn and purple bruised and maybe

the remnants of trail will lead you


back home

Comments


bottom of page