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"Bus stop on the corner of Queen Mary" by Louis Piette

The will of God on bright blue

as I wait to become.

Here He is. On me, in me,

flushing yellow on my skin.

On all of us – waiting, shapeless.

Waiting for light to embrace

all we dare know of ourselves.

Men shouting, howling

like wild wolves, begging

for mercy, for a sign

among nothingness. But is pity

all I have to offer my fellow men?

I refuse to know what I am. Metallic to

biological, the blood pumping our heart

is petrol, dark fuel in extinction,

thick under the fingers of God.

He is behind me, hiding in fiction.

Between the green of nature stands

the reflection of blue and silver,

so high it almost touches Him.

But He is gone. Dead, unmoving.

All that is left are highways

and boulevards. Silence

as we deconstruct every and all things.

Ourselves, too.

And as I stand under nothingness

I, for once, am.


Louis Piette is a queer writer and poet from Québec City, currently studying English literature and philosophy at McGill University. You can find more of his writing in The Foundationalist.

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