Back in the summer of 2010, K&K wrote several odes to Marpole for a poetry contest organized by those animals over at the Marpole Business Association in conjunction with its annual Summerfest. Unfortunately our genius was never recognized and the poems were never selected. That said, why should the public be denied our sensitive observations about one of Vancouver’s oldest neighbourhoods and home to a handful of the Courier’s more streetwise and sophisticated employees? As we mentioned in our original K&K post, Marpole is a place we like to go to in our mind when we dream of a better tomorrow, filled with candy cane streetlights, butterscotch sidewalks and cute little rainspouts that drip taffy. To the end, we’d like to dust off our old Marpole poems and reprint them here… for you… now. You’re welcome.
“Marpole Heat”
Just got a perm at Hair Reflections,
Perfect for those summer breezes
that await my journey to pick up
some crumpets
and jam.
So sweet, so sticky
like a heart that beats….
for Marpole.
•••
“Marpole in My Pocket”
Hangin’ out on South Granville
waiting for the HandyDart
to take us to the casino.
This pocket full of nickels
isn’t the only thing jingling.
So is my heart…
for Marpole.
•••
“A Valediction Forbidding Marpole”
Hark, who goes there,
through slippery shade
of cherry blossom boughs
and the come-hither scent
of cinnamon buns and exhaust?
“T’is I,” said a voice, as old as ages
and loud as dew.
“I’m one of the oldest neighbour
hoods in all Vancouver,
but you wouldn’t know it
judging by my vitality, vim and
affordability.
Explore my long streets.
Feel my warm limbs.
Embrace my many whimsical
charms that have reinforced
these ruddy bones
for o’er a century.
For if you do, you will surely enter
a world of wonder
and conveniently located amenities,
not to mention public transit stops,
or my name, humble reader, isn’t…
Marpole.”
