Death isn’t lonely
In the downtown Eastside
People wait
for him
in long lines
I hide in my typewriter
hoping that Death is lost tonight and
won’t be banging on my hotel room door
By midnight
I finish off another six-pack
and hope he will takes over the world
so I don’t have to drag my ragged self to work at five a.m.
Putting on my old, sad steel-toe boots
I walk with Death now
keep him company through the DTES
He tells me his nightmares and how hard works is lately
Have a good day at work. See you later, Henry
I walk with my own
nightmares as he goes
A yellow sheet covers just another homeless man
His wheel chair sits on Hastings Street
Copyright © 2015 by Henry Doyle
Published in V6A: Writing from Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside
edited by John Mikhail Asfour and Elee Kraljii Gardener