Leaving Montreal by Rohan Quinby

[wooslider slider_type="slides" slide_page="montreal" thumbnails="true" direction_nav="true" limit=9]Corsets sway aboveOn a clothes line hung with thongsAnd Habs pyjamasMeet me on BeaubienWhen copper sun is settingThese old bricks on fireDry old yellow moonFlies above skeleton treesAnd that good, cold airHot Dog Mont-RoyalWe're all dressed and tout garniLes amis bavardentFreaking and peakingDown St. Catherines sneakingIn my furry hatThey are building themShelters of white cloth, out backHomes for ghosts or carsWe shut down Else'sThere was nowhere elses. AndThe dark streets sparkledFilthy snow and iceThe snow machines are comingI will miss this place