Day 23: Briefcase of Sedation

1. When I emerge from this brief case of sedation, drawled the poet in his Montréalais growl, I’ll be arrayed in robes of starlight. Then we’ll dance. 2. It’s just too easy to imagine spies in Sixties’ palettes, knife-crease pants far more alcohol than today’s meek livers and doctors would chance; the case swung well,…

Day 16: List Poem, On Gardens

What gardeners become: contemplative sanguine patient genocidal in service of their chosen. What I love in my garden: saskatoons, who rise early dandelions, earlier still that shaggy sense of wellbeing presaged in first green lace slug traps, like Mom would set. Spring garden memories: Grandma, tongue thick in English sorrowing for strawberry time in those…

Day 9: Night Vision

forget scary: at night in our street fat and sassy rabbits dance forget old age: stars are no farther now rather, they wink and hint every year, we draw you nearer… meanwhile, i cannot help tomfoolery, mind-diving down to goggle astounded at the dark night of the sole. Oh, Day 9… Amiskwaciy/Edmonton looks particularly dull….

Day 3: Confession Dare

I ate the Dare cookies. I ate the whole bag. I ate all, at one go. Okay? Say why? No, I can’t. Childhood lack? No, in fact my mother baked shortbread to call angels earthward. Assign it affluenza, then if you insist influence applies. Or reckon it rebellion. Whatever. I confess. I had the best…

Frog’s Eye Blues – Spoken Word Duet

As 30/30 2020 draws near, here’s a fun piece from last year’s 30/30 games. While playing 30/30 with Stroll of Poets pals, Ivan Sundal smacked me with the image of a frog’s eye. One thing led to another:

There is an Onion by the Stove

There is an onion by the stove brown-papered, seeming unconcerned smug, really, if you come to think of its audacious round bum at rest   Audacious, to just sit there, by the stove so near the fire, so nonchalant and calm Ha – is there anything more patient? or more self-centred than an onion?  …

Animate

you get to an age where you take up your space sink animal roots into animate places, move by instinct and discipline you choose, what to honour what to remember, what unravels in the wake you hold fast where you take up your space you choose the colours, mindful time shades and tints strike the…

Podcast Up!

Recently, I had the most delicious privilege of spending an evening as the guest of Let’s Get Lit* –  Have a listen! * I was their Alcohol-Free special edition, ’cause I’m truly just that square! And ’cause being part of such a sweet, hilarious and warm-hearted community just lights me up!

Helsinki (with recording)

Originally posted on O at the Edges:
? ? Helsinki An editor said never start a poem at a window, so instead I’m looking at the door, which is made of glass. We are to avoid rain, too, but it streaks the pane in such delicious patterns that I can’t help but pretend to be…

Heart Throb

We are all children of the drum. Life begins and ends to that primal one-two heartbeat, and drums have always been the most powerful of the instruments. We don’t always know that, though, don’t always consciously recognise it, any more, i suppose, than we recognise our own heart beating most of the time. It comes…