Half-legged men perched on the edge
of archaic wheelchairs
scattered along the sidewalk
or under the tattered awning
of the long-term care
perched, parched
crowing across the street to me
and that red-carpet restaurant
This is the gentrification
of Leslieville
This is the Gentry
fried
This is Carrie Bradshaw on crack
smoking with dire need outside Jimmie Simpson
crying stinging-hot tears
burning, browning
her leathery visage
And let’s not forget
the rat she found this morning
(in her yard or her bed,
does it matter?)
All’s fair at the fair of life
the Queen’s fare in the East
where you get what you pay for
once you cross Berczy’s bridge
that brown river
coursing, disappearing, trembling, returning
This is your gentrification of Riverside
not mine
That was our Gentry
long since fried
Leonard Cohen
could do them better justice than I
~ c.p.grisold