One Great City

Late afternoon, another day is nearly done

A darker grey is breaking through a lighter one

A thousand sharpened elbows in the underground

That hollow hurried sound, feet on polished floor

And in the dollar store, the clerk is closing up

And counting loonies trying not to say

I hate Winnipeg

The driver checks the mirror seven minutes late

The crowded riders' restlessness enunciates

The Guess Who sucked, the Jets were lousy anyway

The same route everyday

And in the turning lane

Someone's stalled again

He's talking to himself

And hears the price of gas repeat his phrase

I hate Winnipeg

And up above us all

Leaning into sky

Our golden business boy

Will watch the North End die

And sing, “I love this town”

Then let his arcing wrecking ball proclaim

I

Hate

Winnipeg