Day 26: Blessing Song

when i first came to the city, my fear rode on my back cities don’t love indians.  but i didn’t know better than to walk everywhere, because i could. and i began to admit there was life all around me, from the first crack of dandelion leaves up in march, through the stubborn winter song…

Day 25: Smoothing the Spirit

old houses hold on. the first day i saw this house i knew it was my home, knew its many windows. its east facing door was the first thing i painted. upstairs, early on, we removed that beige broadloom peculiar to quick flips. such old wood in some rooms refinished, but under the carpet, a ruin, old…

Day 24: River of Fire

In 1984, in the dark, on the backroad up from Emerson Trail, if you need to know exactly, we saw fire in the sky. my brother and i U2 hammering a yowl about A Sort of Homecoming i saw the coming time, when i would finally go around that big bend in the highway and fly out…

Day 23: Billie, Under the Moon

how do ceremonies work? what magic might be proper, i do not know, except that once, billie asked her aunties for advice about her heartache. billie on the cusp of nineteen, the moon something near full and trailing up into the opening in the sky, velvet shadows cast in heavy island grass. the quiz came from…

Bonus Poem:Moon Lune Luna Personal

Here’s the poem with which i started this year’s French/Spanish translation project. This is the version i collaged into a 3-language piece that i used to lure Madame Giselle Lemire into a crazy-fun trilingual performance experiment. Moon Lune Luna Personal En el fulcro  Au point d’équilibre  balance      point between l’été y otoño la…

Day 19:Steady

it’s something you draw down from the stars so that you, too, become a cord tying earth into heaven.  

Day 20: Changing Into Thunderbird

before an enthralled crowd, one anishinabe man explains the art of another; this copper thunderbird this morrisseau, the price he paid for vision, this gift with which he won for all of us a way to see that this land is rightly the nesting ground of binasi thunderbird. i sit in the back and wonder, so…

Day 21: Rain

i don’t cry for celebrities. they don’t know me. i don’t know them. i don’t want autographs. pay tribute by raising my own voice, however limited. but prince. rampant, pure fire. burn better and brighter grow deeper, higher, brighter if your work did its work. i didn’t know you. you didn’t know me. but there…

Day 22: Giovanni Caboto’s Trees

this morning’s sun, still pentecostal waters new leaves in broad crowned elms adorned, crowns within crowns with magpie nests, wind-riding as my spring-daft hounds cavort i see again the crowd that day our city, post-millennial, had hired an american urban expert to tell us what to need, now that we’d turned that corner into accepting,…

Day 18: Sakura

Sakura, Yayoi no sora wa… suddenly, this morning, the nanking cherry threw open her curled fists cards on the table, this is the hand given gambling on a full house.

Day 17: Traceries

to get to the greyhound station now one passes under the paw of the beast shiny, crouching stadium; try not to worry not about the fancy cantilever overhead but about stadium neighbourhoods, dead and abandoned, like those stale donuts in rustbelt cities, traceries of fast economy devouring land, lighting the cuyahoga river on fire, the…

Day 16: Spring Clean

in this corner, the fear of failure, the fear of wrong decisions, side-eye on the road not taken, forever judging might-have-been, seen in this light has to be shadowed and grim. clear that away. also the webbed corners cut to avoid fully inhabiting this space. do you admit to the glorious? day to day choices…