Toronto is ugly
Front St. is ugly
The sidewalk is ugly
Driving salty car is ugly
The steam tuned cloud is ugly
Bundled men and women are ugly
The frozen salt on dead asphalt is ugly
It is cold
In minus
With the chill
With the feel
It is colder
It is hell
Frozen
Bicycles broken, are still tied down and abandoned
Front between Bay and Yonge is closed; no parking
It’s on Yonge
And my eyes:
“A woman in skirt”
Though ugly is sexy
And I see some lady
No one else; an only
Like steam from the nose, underground and buildings
Smokers are kicked out to smoke cigarette; near gates
The Front, road of joy and movements; summer times
The Front, long baby at the feet of CN; Toronto-pride
The Front, the border between land and the lake, piers
Has turned cold and ugly regardless CBC, hotels there
My building of poem is copied. It’s building on Front
In front of Royal, that’s ugly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem