un nuit dans un vaincu verre
This poem has appeared in Granville.
every day
after waking up
I yawn then remember
nine short years
and the city is gone
we all like to talk
about goodwill and what thrives
but in the end
it's not about specialty streets
like kingsway cambie commercial drive
but granville bisecting the city
richmond marpole shaughnessy
the mini island and the down town
pretty and gritty
it's all tops
but where are the porno stores
book stores
films
99cent pizza
shops
tucked the comics away after the bridge
flanked the street with blenz
put in clubs for the wannabe fast rich
opposite taf's
laughs
but no more granville book
or capitol six
further down
raised the rents
cut the bus closed more books
carved condoland style
out of an ancient skull's parts
and in the end killed the mountains
with electronic arts
for their looks
and at night sometimes i dream
of a city without film music or art
torn apart
by ten thousand twenty ten yaletowns
crossing themselves into infinity