Far North Soul


I wish I were a Far North Soul!

I’d learn to do the kayak roll

but in the middle of winter’s chill

the boat won’t sink on snow and ice

It’s hard to drown and kind’a nice.

Don’t need a lifejacket to make me float

as my ego and pride bloat and gloat.

Soon I’m cold and sore from rolling in snow

because I left my speedos and goggles behind

so I’m stark naked – have I lost my mind?

I go back to the Igloo to warm things up -

my eleven digits and a bare behind.


Hmm what’s in the pot from which I will sup?

I add a few more ingredients to the Igloo stew

then I check my phone for messages and calls

to discover there are quite a few.

I fire up the computer of bytes and bits

to see what’s trending with the Inuit.


Yukon, N.W.T. and Nunavut holding steady at Zero.


B.C.:  Three Hundred and Forty Eight.


I look through the window of my Igloo today

at St. Paul’s hospital one block away

It all seems so unreal and surreal

but in truth the cold hard facts do reveal

that the invisible enemy is knocking at the door

I say “Stay away and go Fuck Yourself!!!

I’m staying in with ample food on the shelf!”

Seems cliché and even a crime

to live and wait one day at a time.


I wish I were a Far North Soul…


© David Girard 23/03/20

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