by LJ Frank
Peripheral vision has its place
galleries, museums, fashion shops, ethnic restaurants
long and short bodies with legs attached
crossing avenues filled with traffic
walking on Yonge Street
conversations with strangers
one thing leads to another
finding myself at a weathered table
listening to an existential voice
sitting on a chair across from me,
estrangement the person suggests
with a nod of condolence in a thick accent
the cost of empty theologies and misappropriated economics
imprinted in flashes on the digital billboards of the mind
sipping our spiked almond amaretto coffee
adapting to our status with a grin,
toasting the nonsensical and the possibilité of life.