Hastings is closed off from Main Street

all the way down to Pigeon Park.

Cops, fire trucks, floodlights

making night into day.

The crowds grow, hoping

for a show. People set up

lawn chairs in the middle

of Hastings like they’re at a drive-in.

Skateboarders fly down the emptiness

like flies skimming a pond,

zigzagging around everything.

It’s like a street party

or the gathering for a town hanging.


A twenty-year-old jumper in debt to his dealer

has climbed over the railing

on the roof across the street.


I sit at my window

drinking a beer, thinking

about wild horses running in the rain.


Cops roam around telling the shouters to shut up.

The copper on the bullhorn bellows

“Please stop telling the poor man to jump”


Finally they talk the young dude down.

We all cheer as if the Canucks

have just scored the game-winning goal.


“Welfare Wednesdays Kill More People than Bombs”  

Copyright © 2017 by Henry Doyle

Geist Magazine, Number 104,  Spring 2017.


1 Comment

  1. Hello Joe, enjoyed your latest work, keep on writing!

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