Mary and I play a strange game:
if that red building beside the TD Tower
were to fall over right now
could it hit us?
Let's see, if the building has fifty stories
and each stories is approximately ten feet
(because ten feet makes easy math)
that would be five hundred feet
– which is half a kilometre!
No, wait, now we're in the metric system.
How many feet in a metre?
The game takes a long time
and the elfish white-haired man
on the bench beside us
stares off into the distance
and pretends – or tries – not to listen.
Okay, remember the one-hundred metre races
in track and field, in elementary school,
where I wore my knee-high pink socks?
How many one-hundred metre races
would make up that building?
Mary says one,
I say the whole damn track,
and the white-haired man says nothing,
perhaps knowing the fallen building
wouldn't cover much
past Yonge Street.