(Untitled 2)


This is the place

where they burn all of the unwanted oil paintings


and rhyming couplets.


Outside the men simmer in their slumbers

upon the ventilation grates

and the women learn sexy new ways of walking

in high heels,


the letters upon the marquee  

hadn’t changed even after the place was bought out

by igor vladimirov and ivan vladimirski

the perestroikan real estate kings

of the western prairies


until the day the number three bus rolled by 

a little bit faster than usual

and all of the E’s fell like blue collared autumn suicides.

They lay scattered across the pavement

in all their glory


‘do s lif  lov  you mor  than you lov  it?’



- Josh Barsky