She was so ugly,
this thick, stern-faced woman
playing her accordion on the corner
of Bloor and Brunswick.
She was playing pirate shanties
if you can believe it,
this muttface on the corner,
playing goddamn pirate songs
with funereal solemnity.
That's so funny, isn't it?
Funny enough to give her
some change, anyway,
although she didn't notice me throw
the fisted dimes into her case.
She smelled like piss up close,
but never even looked at me,
this dour streetmama playing
yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
in goddamn Toronto at rush hour
and I had a train to catch
(and was out of dimes) so, well,
I just left.

Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.