on deck of the queen of chilliwack
		-----------------------------------------------------------

		almost at bella coola -- in the fjord
		sick of shadows sick of fog sick of sunlight
		sick of forests mountains waters
		engine shake and sway
		wind and sea

		we congealed in groups of three or five
		the gatherings of the sitters in white plastic chairs

		the talk would turn to fish
		as it does in british columbia
		to salmon and how they 
		and which do they
		and did i have the broiled
		tonight

		and i said no
		that as everyone was at aft
		i had this place in lemony-sunny long angles
		but that i had the grilled 
		at butchart gardens
		in the formal dining room
		for kicks and white linen service in shorts and sandals
		perfectly dressed -- sun-dial ringed with blueberries
		on a mound of round rice-sized pasta

		and she said
		hold on i have something to show you
		returning with a greasy wad:

		an old family recipe indian-made
		best of port hardy and distinct from others
		a link to ancient coastal eats
		not from a breeder's pond
		not on steroids ("our salmon don't do drugs")
		just the old way of knives wood and fishes

		the crumble of dry soft flaking riches

		a scent not unlike my blackfeet medicine bag
		(from where the montana jaggeds stop the prairie)

		here won't you have some more
		politely declining -- just as my hand went for it
		she laughing

		an art-food revelation
		a nourishing welcoming
		(not unlike kristie's in nashua montana)

		how clearly western
		how best canadian


			Marek Lugowski
			30 September 1997
			Chicago, Illinois

			[rev. 9 Januaury 1998]