died in a corner by the toilet
at the coffee shop where he’d lived
and slept for the last ten years
I read, between tears
he had worked all his life
but at low-paying working class jobs
managed to survive
on a limited government pension
an unexpected expense
left him suddenly scrambling
the restaurant his refuge
as his body battled cancer
Nothing sudden, like a heart attack
never touched drugs
not a big drinker
Nothing brutal, like mugging
kind and easy going
Slumped at his table for hours
folks just drinking their coffee
coming and going
nobody ... noticing
this person’s dying breath
like that photo:
a toddler on the slabs
his endless, shrunken stare
lying between so many ghetto feet
But this is Vancouver
not Warsaw
Weep
© Phil Coleman
Death of Canadian man living in 24-hour coffee shop sparks housing outcry
Phil Coleman lives near Swansea and tries to balance work and the need to write. At the age of 50 he's still a complete tyro at everything except juggling words.
