on the soft cheek
of a wide field
while a serious child plots
to become a flying nun
in baby doll floral and a wool cape.
Wednesday sweeps the stoop
of a Victorian mansion, happy hour
and raccoons in a barrel behind the kitchen.
A corduroy bow gets marooned in man-
eating hair and a grunge trio’s name
references Alice Munro.
Welcome to small-town Ontario:
I’m scared to confess coffee
with MDMA, how the key of G smells
like pine, and how fur clots in the drain.
Adèle Barclay’s writing has appeared in The Literary Review of Canada, Pinch, Poetry Is Dead, Cosmonauts Avenue, The Rusty Toque, and elsewhere. Her debut collection of poetry was shortlisted for the Robert Kroetsch Award for Innovative Poetry and is forthcoming from Nightwood Editions in 2016.