Blue Canoe: A Poem

Blue Canoe

Last night I slept at
My friend’s house
He very politely asked me
Do you mind sleeping

With a blue canoe in your room?

I’ve slept with a lot worse
Than that I said
And he laughed
But I was serious

So I got into a strange bed
In this strange house and stared at
Pictures of ballerinas in tutus
Hanging next to Zulus and gurus by the

Blue canoe in my room

I slipped into wild whitewater dreams
Flying rapids madly paddling
Happily cannonballing
Floating in foaming clouds

I came to a waterfall
So much falling water
A mountain of water falling
Off the edge of the earth

I flew in my blue canoe

Down down down down
Falling fast falling free
Until I lightly touched down
In a lovely summery pond

Air warm but not hot
Green trees undulating
Birds singing sweet and easy
I floated in deep peace

In the blue canoe in my room

About David Sterry

David Henry Sterry is the author of 16 books, a performer, muckraker, educator, book editor, activist, and book doctor. His first memoir, Chicken, was an international bestseller, and has been translated into 10 languages. “As laconic as Dashiell Hammett, as viscerally hallucinogenic as Hunter S Thompson. Sex, violence, drugs, love, hate, and great writing, what more could you ask for?” – The Irish Times.

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