Sacre Ton Camp!

By Bahar Hoshyar

the circuit around
the neighbourhood
feels like
the largest
amusement park
with the wildest
roller coaster

first is the thrill of
waving to the
shrivelled couple
sharing the same
walker

then, it’s time
for hopping to
the other side
as contagion
approaches

next is conversing
with the green
fuzz popping on
the tree barks
only thing you
can get close to

It’s to forget
the palpable fear
leaking down
my veins

It’s to unread
the words of caution
sent to our
phones

It’s to unsee
the audible
shards of panic
on
my neighbor’s
face being loaded into
the ambulance

I end the circuit
by kicking the pink
toilet on
the neighbour’s lawn
the bastard has
been camping here
since the lockdown

Sacre ton camp!
I shout

I live in Toronto. I wrote this poem in May of this year as our outings were limited to walking in the neighborhood. Sacre ton camp means get lost in French from Quebec.

Just like so many people, I was overwhelmed with anxiety back in March. I decided I had to find an outlet for my worries and poetry really saved me. I used  prompts to write at least one piece every morning and it helped me get all my fears down on the page and try to focus on something else for the rest of the day.