Rob Rolfe Poetry

PÉLAGIE-LA-CHARRETTE
today i walk with my country
crouched in the corner of my arm
and we are not oppressed
we have developed an unusual talent
in the creaking wheels of the cart
hearing the heartbeat of the fields
the slightest shimmer of wind
we’ve taken our fear by the throat
and shaken from it the salt
and the painful centuries of tears
today I walk with my country
locked tight to the heel of my shoe
and we are not oppressed
i lift up my heart dear beausoleil
from the gentle bed of the land
and beyond a fine mist rises above
the hill and the lake of days
and the sky is a ribbon of stars
and a spell has shattered the land
and your freedom is in my dream
- from “The Hawk”
(Quattro Books, 2008)

Originally published in 1984 in The Fiddlehead.

thecanadianencyclopedia.ca

Italy did not qualify for this year’s World Cup. In 1982, still relatively new to the neighbourhood, I got to experience the spontaneous explosion of joy that engulfed St Clair West when Forza Azzurri won the World Cup final. (Here is a last excerpt from my little memoir of that time.)

VII

In 1982 Italy won the World Cup. It was the first time since the age of Mussolini. My friend, from a communist family in Bari, claimed it was Italy’s first World Cup win. He ignored the fascist years. St Clair West exploded with flags, honking horns, a half million celebrants and loud reggae music.

I relented, but I couldn’t stand it: my son’s tricycle, like the tricycles of all his friends, sported a small Dukes of Hazzard confederate flag. When Italy won, everything changed; my son took down the flag of slavery and begged me to get him an Italian tricolore flag.

- from “Hart Rouge”
(The Ginger Press, 2017)

Argentina play tiny Cabo Verde (population 530,000) in the World Cup today. Here is another short excerpt from a memoir of my time (and football) on St Clair Ave West...

VIII

Argentina won the World Cup in 1978. It was the time of the Dirty War. There were many Argentines in Toronto of Italian descent, and they decided to hold a victory celebration on St Clair West. We watched from a rooftop as that joyous parade marched past us with waving flags.

Argentina won again in 1986. Maradona fed the winning pass to Burrachaga. I rushed off to Tre Mari Bakery to buy a half-dozen cannoli. When Argentina eliminated favourites Italy in extra time in Napoli in 1990, mounted Toronto police broke up scores of fights on St Clair West.

- from “Hart Rouge”
(The Ginger Press, 2017)

Tonight Portugal will be playing in a World Cup match in Toronto. I loved living on or near to St Clair West in Toronto, especially when the World Cup was being played. This is an excerpt from a little memoir I wrote from those years…

X

In the 1994 World Cup final, two noisy groups cheered each shoot-out goal. When Italy’s Baggio missed, the bar emptied quickly. On St Clair West, separated by nervous police, Latin American and Italian youths faced each other shouting insults and obscenities.

After that final, we could tell the Portuguese or Italian homes on our street by the elation or dejection on the face of each resident. Another time, after their side had been eliminated, Italian kids chanted: “Brasil is not / Portugal / go home and eat / your bacalhau!”

- from “Hart Rouge”
(The Ginger Press, 2017)

Rrampt's review of "Late Nights on Irish Mountain", written by Andy Elliott...

Jensen and Rolfe bring local history and contagious energy to new project - Rrampt. I’ll preface this review by saying that I am not from Owen Sound. I moved here about 5 years ago from Newmarket. My hometown isn’t as tied to its history…

A union poem on May Day...

Blair Mountain

many a night i can hear
that old man speak to me
of west virginia miners
who fought the company

i won’t lay down my rifle
but i will lay down my life
i won’t go down the mine
until we win this strike

in canvas tents as dusk fell
we’d hear a mother’s sobs
and watch as trains went by
with scabs to take our jobs

then came a day of infamy
blood spilled in the town
sid hatfield stood up for us
gun thugs shot him down

we’d hide up on the ridges
we’d meet up in the night
gun thugs would be waiting
but we’d be there to fight

i was once a union miner
poor in a land of plenty
union miners had a chance
no miner alone had any

way down in holly grove
high up on blair mountain
union miners of long ago
they’ll never be forgotten

i won’t lay down my rifle
but i will lay down my life
i won’t go down the mine
until we win this strike

“Sturgeon Bay: Poems”
(The Ginger Press, 2021)

My review of the Québec novel "Morel" in CANADIAN DIMENSION:

Canadian Dimension
Mar 27, 2026

Montréal’s working-class past revisited
‘Morel’ is a poignant reflection on the lives, losses, and quiet pride of workers shaped by displacement and change
Review by Rob Rolfe / March 27, 2026 / 4 min read

Morel
Maxime Raymond Bock
Baraka Books, 2024

As a young man I read Gabrielle Roy’s groundbreaking 1945 novel, Bonheur d’occasion (The Tin Flute), while living in my hometown of London, Ontario. This novel, set in the poor, working-class neighbourhood of Saint-Henri, was a life-altering book for me, resulting in my long love affair, albeit long-distance and infrequent, with the city of Montréal.

Gabrielle Roy’s sympathetic portrayal of the humble residents of Saint-Henri appealed to me, as did her underlying theme of social justice. Sixty years later, I’ve encountered a similarly remarkable book, Morel, written by award-winning Québec author, Maxime Raymond Bock, and brilliantly translated by another talented Montréal writer, Mélissa Bull.

Morel is the story of a construction worker, Jean-Claude Morel, who lived his entire life in the gritty working-class neighbourhoods situated east of downtown in the general vicinity of the Jacques-Cartier Bridge.

This beautifully crafted book traces the events of Jean-Claude’s life. From his childhood in an area once known as Faubourg à m’lasse to his old age in nearby Hochelaga, Jean-Claude sorts through his past. The reader is able to envision a man who has come to the realization that he can take a measure of pride in the work he has done and the life he has lived.

Jean-Claude knows the skills, dangers, and camaraderie of construction work. We visit taverns with him and his workmates, and we meet his lifelong friend, Nick Simatos, grandson of Greek immigrants, who eased Jean-Claude’s entry into the world of manual labour. Apart from Pietro di Donato’s Christ in Concrete (1939)—a novel about a bricklayer who struggles to provide for his family, a narrative inspired by the death of his father in a tragic workplace accident—I am not aware of another novel that describes so well the life and social milieu of a construction worker.

Several years ago, on a visit to Montréal, I took a walk through Saint-Henri. Much has changed since my first visits there, and gentrification is apparent in parts of what was once an impoverished neighbourhood. The shabby rowhouses of Rue Workman, a street Gabrielle Roy described as “frightful,” are long gone. As I turned onto Rue Beaudoin, a narrow street still dotted with adjoining homes that crowd the sidewalks, I passed a young woman and a crying child. Their belongings were stacked along the curb, waiting to be moved. It was a scene from Roy’s Bonheur d’occasion.

The neighbourhoods where Jean-Claude lived are miles east of Saint-Henri. But in so many respects, the story is the same. Residents of both districts have been forced to move, either for economic reasons, or to make way for so-called urban renewal. In Morel, Jean-Claude and others suffer through multiple traumatic moves. One move is preceded by an eviction notice announcing the planned demolition of homes to enable the building of a new highway. Even though local residents organize protests to prevent this, their efforts fail. For Morel, this move played a significant role in the breakup of his marriage and family.

Morel is not an overtly political novel. Morel himself seems indifferent to the political events of his time. Even though one of his sons is engaged in union and local protests and his friend Nick becomes a leader of the trade union Common Front, Morel remains largely outside of these movements.

I was in Montréal at a union convention in the week leading up to the 1995 sovereignty referendum. Québec’s labour movement was firmly united in support of independence. I walked the streets where Morel is set and took notice of Québec flags and “Oui” posters displayed everywhere: they were draped across balconies and duplex staircases, and posted next to countless windows. In spite of Morel’s own lack of political involvement, the cultural markers in the book—such as a plan for a mural to honour Louis-Joseph Papineau and the Patriotes at Papineau metro station, which Morel helped to build—shed light on why so many francophone workers from this neighbourhood voted “Oui” in that historic and closely contested referendum.

In a sense, Jean-Claude’s story begins and ends with the Jacques-Cartier Bridge. As a child, he learns an Indigenous origin story of the bridge that predates European arrival—a tale of Turtle and other giant beings, including an Otter whose body became the bridge. Many years later, his granddaughter shows him a sweeping view of the modern bridge, the river, and the city skyline from the eleventh floor of a government office building.

“In this panorama, the Jacques-Cartier Bridge provides the only comfort. Morel becomes aware of his own worth in front of the immutable bridge, unchanged from his earliest memories.”

Robin Philpot, Morel’s English-language publisher, has explained why he wanted to publish the English version of the book: “It’s a story that is not heard. Publishers like publishing stories about people who are down and out and in the margins of society, but rarely about workers who have dignity and a will to be respected despite very trying lives.”

Morel’s dignity and his will to be respected shines through brightly in this fine translation of Maxime Raymond Bock’s memorable novel.

Rob Rolfe, former Poet Laureate for the city of Owen Sound, is the author of seven books of poetry, including Don’t Look Back (The Ginger Press, 2023) and Beyond Mudtown (Quattro Books, 2013). He was a librarian and union leader in Toronto for many years.