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.