All the blades of grass
were weeping under
grinning Nintendo sky.
O, tonic dreamscapes.
Peach and rose,
palm-tree green,
like vomited lollipops,
synthetic strawberries,
chocolate milk before the dye.
We dropped Wendy’s
fries in the lawn
and all the grass-mouths
opened at once,
crooning cumulus,
howling sodium,
lilting chloride.
Someone passed a Frosty.
My tastebuds spoke
their single word:
saccharine.
David Huebert, of Halifax, is a PhD student at Western University. His poetry and fiction have appeared in journals such as Event, Grain, Matrix, Vallum, Broken Pencil, and The Dalhousie Review. A first book of poetry, We Are No Longer The Smart Kids In Class, will be released by Guernica Editions in fall 2015.