www.philipquinn.ca
"Writer "
Strike Me Dead
Woke up at my girlfriend’s to the news, that the entire
TTC system is on strike
Drivers, trains, buses, nothing’s moving
Woke up to the news
How am I going to??????
And then do that?
Fucking walking?
I might as well stay here, stay in
bed until this thing is settled.
It’s going to put the entire city
to sleep but I decide to check it out
Over on
in small clusters drinking coffee,
the paper cup clenched strongly in a working man’s grip
the needs of many should outweigh
the needs of the few, the man
beside me said. It’s turning the city into a cripple
an old man made up of tall
buildings and decayed roads hobbling along with a bad limp
in small clusters we debate the
strike
in small clusters, we feel the
anger
solidarity with all brothers and
sisters of the underground
every possible swear word, doesn’t
even begin to describe the TTC, said another man
Now I’m walking the backbone of
the city Yonge Street
Breaking my back, carrying this
sports bag with all my worldlies
Who said the world could stop?
Who said that they could say no to
the contract?
I’m walking my way back home
Thumb ready to pop out like a
flick knife
At the first chance of a ride in a
car
See Systematic Neglect See The SubWay
New poems:
