Another sapphic delight from the great Janine Fuchs-Neuchel, poet in resident at the Adelaide festival of the Arts, Crafts and Macrame
Oh Canada
Your maple sugar lips sticky with fuschia
Your autumn hair glinting russet and gold
We drink cider
Canada
With a scummy ooze floating on top
That you tell me is butter
And cinnamon quills
Your black eyes
Canada
Like pissing in the snow
Like a great jagged hole in the ice
Like a harpooned seal
Your black eyes
Round with ecstasy
Or not
I canÂ’t tell
But if it were
Surely you would
Be groping me by now
