This is a poem I wrote when I was into those creative writing classes a few years ago, before I started writing romance. I belonged to a different sort of online writers' group then, a literary group, and members tended to be very polarized in their political beliefs and very vocal about them within the group -- which is one reason I'm no longer there. It was during the last presidential election, during which I kept hearing the comment, "If Bush is re-elected, I'm moving to Canada!" This hit my funny bone pretty hard because I'd heard the exact same comment from the other side ("If Gore wins, I'm moving to Canada!") many times in the previous election.
Obviously not too many people actually followed through on that threat, and I'll bet the Canadians heaved a collective sigh of relief that a buttload of intolerant Americans didn't head for the border.
So this poem isn't written from the POV of either the Left or the Right, because it could be from either. It has two titles because I can never seem to pick one.
When Canada's Gone
(or Heaven On Mars)
Where will we go when Canada's gone,
When the last frontier is our front lawn
And all the world's arable acres are taken,
Leaving us only the lands forsaken?
How will we find a place to be
Just what we want in society,
But free of society's bothersome rules
That govern our homes and jobs and schools?
How can they even say with pride,
"I'm an American on right's side!"
When all they ever do for me
Is hinder my individuality?
Can't they see how narrow their view,
Allowing no room for different or new,
Condemning my instincts as base or wrong
Just because I'm not singing their song?
Curtailing my freedoms, promoting their laws,
Is leaving me feeling angry and raw.
I'm about ready to leave this place,
But the only land vacant's in outer space.
I'd better get cracking on manned space flight
If I want a new place to live tonight.
Since no one here agrees with me,
I'll fly away and soon be free
To carry on just as I'd rather
Without a thought for whom I'll bother,
Escaping hate and rules and wars
To make my own little heaven on Mars.
But uh-oh, wait--I just remembered,
I won't get there 'til next September.
That's too long before I arrive,
with no guarantee I'll make it alive.
Perhaps there's nothing for me there,
No water, no food, oh yeah, no air.
At home, these things are always near--
Guess I should learn to get along here.
© 2004 Robin L. Rotham
5 comments:
Robin, I'm standing on my chair and yelling agreement. Which makes it hard to type, but so be it.
You rock, girlfriend. You are so right about this...
Although there's plenty of room at West of Mars for you, you know. Just don't hog Trevor or Rhian'll get mad.
Awesome poem. I loved the remarks you made beforehand. My 3xgreat-grandfather entered the US from Ireland by way of Canada.
Yay, Susan! I was kind of worried I'd pissed off one side or the other. :D But then, I've been absent all day, cleaning for the arrival of family this evening. (Ugh!) Please pray that Sunday gets here as quickly as possible so that my life will be my own again.
Thanks, Ann! I've only been to Canada once, to Thunder Bay. To tell the truth, it didn't really feel much different from here. I mean, we ate at Applebee's, for crying out loud! Next time I'll have to go up where they film that Ice Road Truckers series. Now THAT'S Canada!
Well, I don't think Canada will ever be gone...you can have Quebec if you want though...
;)
These are beauties:
"Where will we go when Canada's gone,
when the last frontier is our front lawn"
Love it! Here in eastern Canada, my husband and I often worry that all the introspective, caring, principled people will move to Canada and leave the US to all the rootin', tootin' Yosemite Sams. (shudder)
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