Sunday, March 18, 2012
and then Sunday morning
The gulls were all whirling and fairly screaming as I turned the corner onto Princess Street on Sunday morning. Crashed packets of garbage, then a million broken bits rolling around. It was a gull party. At least the wind was warm. I don't know why I walked up Division, which I usually avoid, because the effect is certainly disaffecting ... I understand why you might mindlessly pile up beer bottles on your front step, but why go to the effort of smashing them? Division Street's ugliness is unrelenting enough to dismiss until you think just for a few seconds about the kind of people who do walk it: the unemployed (or unemployable) and upper middle-class Queen's students. Guess who leaves more of a mess? Of course the Money Mart is a classic touch, kind of a flagship for the suffering. I did find a dime on the sidewalk, about a block from my studio, but I declined to pick it up because it was floating in piss. This might turn out to be bad luck later.