Canadian Ressentiment

America you seem to be dying America moving across the forty-ninth parallel each day a stronger more death-laden stench; wafting inshore from off the Great Lakes the same unmistakable stink, so unlike the usual putrefaction of these waters America the cracks are beginning to show America I knew you were marching to doom the night a young American told me: “There at Buffalo I saw our flag flying, then fifty yards further on your Maple Leaf, and I thought: thank God I’ll never have to cross that line going back again.”1