Lost

 

I can’t find my therapist

streets of Yaletown look the same

I blame gentrification

wax bars and custom tailors

capitalist sea of things

I can’t afford, don’t understand,

don’t want, don’t need

Kafkaesque this

ten years of confusion

Kafka would also lose

his way in Yaletown

I say to my therapist,

“I got lost again,” and he says

“You are here, on time”

he notices what I do well

while my focus is elsewhere

why can’t I find

a way to his office that

doesn’t find me, ten minutes

prior to my appointment,

gazing at the blo bar, the juice bar,

the distillery, wondering,

where the fuck am I?

 

 

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s