Living on the streets of Toronto, making friends with the druggies, hookers, pizza makers, bus drivers, CBC employees, winos, and people of God, all of them with stories to tell. Sometimes they talk your head off, other times they cant be bothered, so in a hurry to get on with life. It was exciting. I set up shop on the first floor of a house on Church Street, cleaned up and planted bushes (later stolen) in my back yard, made tea and sat on the front steps watching the world go by.Short listed in the C.B.C. national poetry contest. These poems are dedicated to the dime novels and pulp fiction, the disposable culture of its day.