“Canadian side of Niagara Falls”
I rode around the Canadian side of Niagara Falls.
I was seven years old in the middle backseat;
Seventy two pounds of rice and of meat.
All the black broke apart by October mist
in tiny fragments of Technicolor stars.
and Coral Gold.
My eyes are half shut—
as they were
watching the lights sink beneath Buffalo.
The truck cab stank of sweat and gasoline,
half eaten paper bag of French Fries—
The Canadian Side of Niagra Falls—
watching the colors that America once owned.