The Apartment

 Hell is a long empty corridor badly lit
numbers black metal numbered doors
sounds of many televisions or radios
blaring no pictures on walls no color
drab Ontario cheap apartment blocks
dim  lights number elevators that rumble
three stories or twenty three all the same
how do people live here do they lever laugh
It all sounds the same behind the closed doors
only the television blares no one is ever home
It is three in the morning I cannot sleep hot
I go to the window and there I see some men
carrying a coffin in the dark of  street lights
no ceremony here for the dead no neighbors
no community no cups of tea the corpse is
 hurried away in the middle of the night and
no proper goodbyes to the walls the cat the dog

In this slow death come to the land of plenty now
Stay at home I say stay at home and fight the right