The Departed Wayfarer
Let’s become chaotic orchard harvesters and live out
in the woods by the pier. On weekends,
claim we’ll attend a Richmond Night Market while
on a road trip with strangers.
Follow in the footsteps of the wayfarer
who did not pass this way again.
He didn’t come back
to fill out a census or rub his back
against graffiti along the Styx.
From the air, his voice crossed the Maginot
Lines of country while proclaiming:
We are all lip readers falling asleep on white checkered
sheets, dreaming about tea parties and jackrabbits. Wearing
socks with the faces of foxes to ballroom dinners in honour
of long walks in the arctic that haven’t happened yet.
Now he lives between constrained space and sunsets. In
language spent roaming translation, sentences
that find their way back home or to a hostel. For a rest.
Jared Wong (he/him) is a graduate of Mount Allison University (BA) and Carleton University (MA), and briefly worked as a staffer in Canada's Parliament. You can find him on Twitter @Jared_CGW or in Whitehorse, Yukon contemplating the highway and winter. His poetry has appeared in multiple issues of 7Mondays and Bywords, and in Horse Egg Literary.