The DBar

The DBar

The thin girls
and the bigger girls
are sitting at tables
next to each other
Each set elegant dolled
Bright colours, red headed, blonde ,
Rhythmic repetitive music
of the Dbar
each Vo-lup-tu-ous
in their ways.

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7:30 am in Urban Paradise

I’ve been living in downtown Toronto temporarily for the past month or so
as our condo by the water  is being repaired from water damage due to a slow leaking pipe ( water amd words can wear things down – specifically copper and wood flooring this time  )
I miss the calm of the lake . It’s relatively placid there most of the time , although the city is alive with its own varied, busy, and sometime tense excitement. It’s harder to really really relax at night with all the sirens and  nightlife noises at Yonge and Bloor but the city is inspiring in a different way. It seems like I’m going back to those  city walks I used to have in my 20’s and seeing them with different eyes now, older eyes but also with new younger eyes . The eyes of the 20 & 30-something condo dwellers in the vertical beating heart of the city . They’re all clicking away at their iPhones and Blackberrys while walking, just like me .
It’s amazing . Never thought I’d be into the urban lifestyle again and especially living it out loud like this .

7:30 am  in Urban Paradise

7:30 am and the city is almost quiet
Just a few cars in the street .
Been off  and on
through the night
I’m up for a drink
and something to eat .
Listen to the hum ,
and see the light
rising higher .
Tower lights are  on .
The moment is sweet .
I fall back into sheets
a willing participant
of meditation and sleep .

Dinner Conversation With Self

Dinner Conversation  With Self

Sat down at my table
for a dinner for one .
Salmon on salad
water with lemon
done quickly
to catch an evening  flick.
Soon an elderly lady
with a white chin beard
and a head of grey hair
sat at a  table beside me .
Rotund body wrapped in red ,
complete with her imaginary friend ,
she never stopped talking
the whole time she was there .
“Charles proposed this
and mother she just disagreed ‘”
she said
and on she went all through her meal
of burger and frites ,
with a wavering thumb .
She only spoke  briefly
and ever so curtly
with the waitress ,
but in her head
the conversation
fluidly continued .
I thought to myself :
What’s less uncomfortable ?
This lady who leaves
nothing unsaid ,
or a diner next to me
eating  in deafening silence .
I’ll pick this lady I confided
secretly to myself,
and under my breath .
After finishing I waited
awhile  to make her feel
welcome and more at ease
then got up smiling  to leave .
There was a disappointment
marked on her face .
She was losing a
dining companion ,
but she never stopped talking
regardless .

Outside in a lobby cafe
I noticed another
elderly lady
was sleeping on
folded newspaper pillow,
her head flat on the table .
She was thin  pale, frail
but well dressed .
She was dreaming or dead .
A young coupled checked
to make sure
that she wasn’t ill or dead,
before I could get there .
Old age really sucks
I thought to myself
but being there alone
Is  without question
much  worse.

City

Image

Urbane

City
Surrounded by concrete,
lights,
and a crescent moon,
the obsolescence
of hearts confounds.
The milquetoast of regret
seizes,
and shattered glass
repentance
cuts a tear
of cerium oxide rust
in the soul.
It’s imperfect with
the screech of feather
cutting air,
as crackpots entertain
trained monkeys
on bandwidths,
while we engage
in the urbane .

From “Persephone’s Call” by PWChaltas