panamax

+ they built a new fence and the smell of the wood in the rain.

+ and i go to a restaurant down the street, i order lunch and a beer. i eat, then order another beer, then see the board in front - someone i knew is listed on the bill, there is an event. someone i knew when i was much younger, another person. i had plans to have a third beer, finish my book, but i pay the bill and go. i bring home a case of beer, and read my book, alone. i finish my book the next day.

+ the skytrain station is rebuilt, week by week, and i, week by week, forget what it was the week before. and years ago, as an outpost. the skytrain line, a spine of landmarks across the region and the only spine i know, a frame for the city.

fern taught me how to eat chinese noodles at penny restaurant. she had a secret piece of paper with secret chinese characters that she would show to the waitress, who would bring us vermicelli with beef and green onions. this is now i learned to eat chinese noodles.

and this spring i ate chinese noodles on my own, every day, most days. across the street, close to where i worked, not far from where i live, on a street i knew and still know.

fern taught me to walk through the city, how to walk across the city from pacific centre to commercial drive, from mall to mall. and they became my poles, a new city, down pender from granville, across to venables and commercial.

where i live now as just another piece, filling in the gaps of the city. between bus routes, bike routes. lists and maps.