"How are you?"
I try to look pleasant.
"I'm OK."
I say unenthusiastically
long ago
I was
enthusiastic
not now
but
she doesn't care,
the woman enquiring,
as to how
I am
not really
its a Pleasantry,
a greeting,
a rote excercise
in pretending
That everything
is
OK.
I don't really
want to talk
about the weather
and certainly not about
how I'm
"feeling"
Tell me how you feel
in 60 seconds or less
and be positive
is what's next
I think
to my
self
she's waiting for me to expand
on
"I'm OK"
or continue
the ritual
of the greeting
but
I really can't
pretend
like she can
that everything's
OK.
The news from the government channel
tells how they are housing the refugees
proudly
there are 2000
homeless
people
Canadians
spread out across each city
the official numbers
are much smaller
I watched the woman
estimating
a yuppie by a line
of poor people
getting chili
she underestimated
by half
with a wry smile
and a twinkle
here there are 175 shelter
"beds"
and a couple hundred
filthy
spots
for the 2000
its the same
everywhere
I lived outside 3 and a half years
my body aches with arthritis
in the night
and the mornings
as I dig
in a dumpster
for some veggies
to make
soup
In the morning I find
some bread
and the good restaurant owner
gives me a coffee
every
day
I probably owe him
half a grand
by now
really
The chef
at another place
loves my dog
everyone does
so we get a bag of
meat
once a week
and
she doesn't
starve
I remember starving
many times
and freezing
many times
because no one
would rent
to someone
with a dog
I guess
I really
should have
let her go
be positive!
it's
a sunny
day
We rarely tell
the truth
anymore
especially
in rote greetings
A refugee gets $1300 flat
And education allowances
the wonderful System
of Canada
covers my rent
here
and then
I
who was born in Canada
jump through hoops
and forced marches
holding my hernia
with my hand
to get
$180
for me
and the dog
each month
We should be grateful
we are inside
it is a warmer place
to brood
and seethe
and slowly
die
living doesn't
seem
to mean much
humans
don't seem to be
worth
much
Less
than the carts
they push
I never saw anyone
pushing
a cart
with their belongings
until I was twenty
what
happened?
to Canada?
advertisements
of charities
that
"give"
for Profit
the "news"
of "what we're
doing
for those people"
its mostly all
just fictions
revolving
around each other
in our minds
we parrot the programming
endlessly
a talk about
some movie
or entertainment
or government
or scam
run by crooks
we admire
well dressed
crooks
they have money
honest people
really don't
that's really
all
its about
in the end
the money
and the power and the glory
forever and ever
the Face
and the ass
and the wallet
who will be able to write
I wonder
in 40 years
will an adult
know how to use
a pencil?
I walk
about
thirty five blocks and back
twice
To seek
"Justice"
but she plays favourites
with the money
twice
the King's Cunts
or the Queen's
either way
that's what feeds
Islam
that's what feeds
the crusades
of NATO
Charlegmagne
of the Magna Carta
our
inalienable
"rights"
beheaded 16,000 pagans
in 3 days
for God
I'm not that upset
about ISIS beheading people
I'm worried
about justice
here
and medical care
here
equality
here
not there
it's all about
the dead dinosaur
blood
all of it
for the next hundred
years
itwill be about
the dead dinosaur blood
and the money
and the kings and queens
do they stay?
they seem to be
more eternal
than any god
My own economy
is ransacked
laid waste
by more than a decade of fascism
spun off by little bushy-hitler
and his harpy minions
I don't ever have
a good day
anymore
I can't be a good enough
slave
to be
enthusiastic
there is no credit
except through
slavery
or crookedness
not even
enough
to live on
after your 40 hrs
there is no real law
or medicine
freedom of religion
equality
rights
are fictions
governments put
on paper
to make it appear
that something
was done
I get to the doctor
early
or you don't get to see them
off at golf
or something
I have a list of ten things wrong
I'd like to work at gettig them fixed
so I could stop limping
maybe
get back to work
he has a wry paternal smile
as he completely ignores me
hands me a script
for not enough painkillers
Next!!
like a fast food burger joint
serving up
prolonged pain
and intentional humiliation
with a smile
a smile like the Colonel
serving you greasy chicken
why wouldn't he smile
he made $50 to scribble
and ignore me
three doctors killed me
with ether
at 4 am
it was a joke
kill the freak
our friends owe him money
tortured for two hours
flatlined with ether
months of strokes
the doctor now ignoring me
there is no stroke medication
on the script
I laugh when the girl
on the corner
flogging donations
tries to chat me up
about donating
inhaling my smoke
I ask her
why I would donate
to a 2 week cruise
for a bunch of doctors
to go somewhere else
They get a cruise
a huge tax write-off
and they can shop
for future vacation properties
and other investments
My stomache grumbles
as I ask her perplexed face
why she should feel I would
like
to help
I haven't got enough
for a coffee
in my pocket
and she's got
all the answers
it seems
it seems
I can only
walk away
Everything is not OK
