it's Sunday

It's Sunday and sunny
even fat men walk
I bike. The geese are back,
their necks black & wringable.
It's west to get stuck in a ravine.
The lake goes a while
& like I imagine in California
even winos have a view
there's really nothing nice about it
though (Etobicoke). The sun
makes it look even grayer
which is surprisingly true
Toronto - the topography
bores to tears
& everywho seems to be going
somewhere, for vantage, advantage
or a special on beer. 9 months
till Christmas & on some early trees
    tinsel buds
tangy snow
a black Lab chews its toe
where are the breaks on
this puppy
shit