No Rush by Kirby
Between Castle Frank and Broadview cross the scenic overpass
Famous for being many a last sight now strung like a harp to mask deter
Weathered withered worn frail elder steadies themself to sit
Beside a young person in buds vacates quickly yes they smelled of smoke
Homelessness in need of did they have shelter last night? tonight? are there
bed bugs? should I move? next stop young student clean clean shaven
clean shoes clean hands nails begins to ask for money “this is all I have”
Really? what do they actually need? need it for? A cult drugs trying to get home
Elder clutches a single bill $5 “here” the beggar youth incredulous
Loses it upon offering begins to weep “thank you thank you thank you” “it’s alright
it’s alright” “no—you’re the first person to look me in the eyes today—I’ve been at
this for two-and-a-half hours now I can stop I don’t want to do this anymore”
“It’s okay it’s okay” I get off at Chester sit write this wait for a friend
A bunch of drunks approach “can you give us ten million dollars?” “you know
who you remind me of with those cheeks?—Elton John” I thank him “no, when
he was younger” they call me sir tell me to have a good day A beauty in
construction boots navy blue parka hoodie Altanta Falcons cap pauses For me?
zips up their coat then my friend arrives with an envelope “I’ll pay you back”
This poem was featured in Issue 07 of Canthius.
KIRBY is the author of WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE CALLED? (Anstruther Press, 2020), THIS IS WHERE I GET OFF (Permanent Sleep Press, 2019), SHE’S HAVING A DORIS DAY (knife | fork | book, 2017), and POETRY IS QUEER (out Fall 2021, Palimpsest Press).