The City

A network of roads spreads finely
through fields, between tower blocks
and building sites, it spins
through highways and downtowns
and downtowns. Dangerous neighbourhoods
await arteries. Maps
the city Toronto to the city Dublin to the city London.
All converge.
Circle road, Ring road.

I am going out all the exits on the highway
at the same time. Mapping
a leg to a shoulder, a memory to a hill, a blue vein
to an arm. Cross
sections of past. Yonge Street meets
King north of Piccadilly Circus
like a skin graft. Major intersections
cross the body.

I don’t know where I’m going and the city
calls to my voices, my limbs,
all my uncertain directions, saying:
Lie down in the not knowing.
Lie down in me.

– From Fear of the Ride by Ronna Bloom, published in 1996 by Carleton University Press