I want peeling turquoise paint

red signage Ambassador

I want the sleaze and the sunshine

the roads that lead to corn fields

I want bass ricocheting off

the side speakers of my car

shaking my hands on the steering wheel

like I am convulsing to a rhythm

that is bigger than me,

like the slick grey skyscrapers

become visible at the top of Dougall

before Ouellette Avenue

it wasn't so bad

being the underdog

But it's left me

with an affinity for decay

I want my nail polish paint to chip

rolling on my Chapstick immediately

I want it to all rub off, like a submerged

photograph in the dark room

where you are waiting for the

image to appear