Recovering Distance


We are speaking, the topic political,
and you are wondering
why I always think I am right.
You say, I am trying to hear
where you are coming from,
as though we are miles apart
and this is the most exhausting task.
I assume you are wondering about my bias
so I unpack all of my titles
and lay them before you
like a Bedouin merchant with silver trinkets.
Now you look at me as though it is 1942
and I am speaking Japanese,
my mouth moving, hands gesticulating.
You hear me say, I am right,
I am right, I am right.
But what I actually say is this:
I live in Canada, yet every day I hear
bombs fall over my head.

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