My poem for Yonge Street

O Yonge Street
How I’ve missed you so
As I walk along your path
And watch the world pass by
I’m reminded why I love and hate you
All at the same time
I’m addicted to stay
But I can’t wait to get away
With your Not Just Condoms juxtaposed against Mobilicity
And Mobilicity neighbouring BarBurrito
What can I say Yonge Street
But thanks
Thanks for the sights, the sounds, the colours
Thanks for the people you present to the silent observer
Giving him the chance to watch his world and all that entails
Like this guy in a black baseball cap
Worn backwards with a red T-shirt and blue faded jeans
Who boldly steps up to the post holding the street camera
And slaps on a sign along with some clear glue from a pail
As if he belongs here
And as if he is doing what he is supposed to do

With all these lives passing by
I look up and am reminded
Of a whorehouse
With all the prostitutes rising from their seats
To entice the one who has newly entered
Showing all the illicit wares available
But hiding the cost until the hook is firmly in the cheek
I am supposed to be in one of the most multi-ethnic cities in the world
Standing here on the longest road in the heart of downtown
And I see all these people
And I think
If it weren’t for this random passing in time
This convergence of my life and the stranger who walks past
I wouldn’t know the world contained such a person
Who has a name and a life and loved ones

And even now a person of the street
Sits beside me
And cries out for help
Yet none help him
Still he wishes each a nice day
Until another untouchable
Gives up his half-smoked cigarette
And I think
It’s time for this cold individuality to end

DH