Gray area

Oh, and now you’ve had your fun

Under an air-conditioned sun

-Beck

I live in Ontario

where every winter

a certain jet snowbird

set flies down and spends

$6.5 billion on piña coladas

and high-rise condominiums

in Florida

they do not bring

their so-called Canadian

values because there

is a surcharge for carry on

baggage.

This is how it goes:

when you can afford

to seek a break from lake

effect dysphoria don’t say

gay because now

the sun is out and you

wouldn’t have it any other

way.

I hear coastal heat obliterates

thought all that Vitamin Dee

(or is it Deh)

makes you sleepy and you forget

about the color of the help

because each complexion is hazy

while ocean breezes gloze the high

humidity.

I read that Cougars in the Everglades

mingle with Orinoco Pythons for every

Palm Polly there are twelve backhoes

and four score cane workers living

in tin roofed shelters what Canadians

could call a Florida sugar shack

but jet set snowbirds can retire to Versace

Mansion and enjoy the floor show at the next

GOP Convention.

You see, the state doesn’t

charge six dollars a dozen

for eggs and if you can

afford the trip the minimum

tipping rate isn’t 18%

like back in Trudeauland

whose Liberals prefer seniors

dine on cat food to help single

mothers make rent and place

downpayments on Cadillacs

with all that ten-dollar-a-day

national childcare.

These birds have an all-seeing eye

soaring at such heights like some Oracle

whose predictions command a fulsome fee

it’s why they agree there is only Mickey

and Minnie they like a quack named Donald

with nothing in between.

And so it is with no little irony

that they return to the land

where all that’s gray goes

to die.