Vancouver Seabus - 1AM August 25, 1999
Vancouver Seabus - 1AM August 25, 1999
I relocated ten people tonight to other hotels
I didn’t even see them go
I was busy writing a eulogy on email
one that will never be read
he didn’t want a ceremony
In front of me
some guy with faded tattoos
draws cartoon characters on a newspaper
He watches my legs
as I pull up my skirt to
scratch a scab from last week
Beside him
A husband lay reading his newspaper
on his wife’s lap
She stares mindless into the moving lights
planning tomorrow’s schedule
Another’s hair is tightly knit into buns
Her eyebrows curved upwards
Her mouth twined into a classic Japanese pout
Flowers sit beside her waiting
to be given to someone
she most likely has never met
For 15 minutes there is no sound
The quiet hum of the tank-like vessel
keep our minds restless
as she carries us over the rapid waters of the
Burrard Inlet
Between my eulogy writing
I sold that view today at $265 a pop
Tourists would pay hundreds to look over the water
We paid $2.25 to travel across it
at the end of another work day

