Colour me Montreal

    1,2,3,4...16
        great balls of light thrown up
      High,
    Still higher,
  Higher again
  Knowing there was someone at the 
 Bottom,
 Who stood watching,
  Concentrating,
   Hard
     And as the great balls of light
    Fell from the sky
      Seeming effortless,
    This magical, conjuring wizard
   Hurled them into the sky
 To float,
Weightlessly,
Once more.


    We are this set of rogues.
We are this dangerous Bixi gang.
  We are every pink bauble on Saint- Laurent.
  We will travel your streets for art,
  And stare at your murals until we suck the paint dry.
We will breathe your festival air,
And reap the rewards of its free festivities.
  We are breathing your clean city,
  And our eyes are pointed towards the sky,
Because on our travels yet,
Never did we feel so close to home.
     

And on Saint-Denis
You will still find me hanging
In the brightly coloured lights.