The line-up is good
for us.
It privatizes patience,
demarcates the vector
of progress,
organizes the rest into
Canadians,
a photographer will
capture your place
as you tributary
gently downhill in a
plastic blue rain
slicker,
understanding that
appreciation requires
a parade,
that Niagara Falls is
the molecular
concourse
of one lake changing
into another,
and one culture eating
another’s
failed burlesque. It
looks like
your shirt has shifted
and here
is the line like this.