Day 22: Laconic Tonic

Don’t ‘at’ me any Earth Day bullshit, i’m in the garden: unless you have some skin to put in this game, shut up. If all you have is voice then tell me like a peasant only the poet bones of it. But better you bend your back to shovel lift these bricks, use knees. Kill…

Day 21: Distance Between

shard and treasure garden and rubble over and renewal peak oil crisis oil glut crisis new ice age crisis global warming crisis nuclear crisis viral crisis crisis of faith clarified vision shell crisis and fledging wind and harbour said and heard heard and accepted apprehend and comprehend curtain rise and fall over and renewal rubble…

Day 20: disproof

Long before Amiskwaciy an inland sea, balmy changed for Her own reasons long before we named her Gaia. In Nass valley, volcanic green. Off Sri Lanka’s coast, city of myth. Amber birthed in Baltic gloaming. Tales of Atlantis. Song after song extolling our echo of the One Song in which She, too is singing. When…

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 15: Intervention

despite invention torturer’s tools despite mines infecting velvet against the roar of drone defilement outside the sick air where feckless men force reckless plans still the One Song     We’re halfway through 30/30. Today’s image by Kathysg on pixabay.com

Day 14: Danger Café

lightness, darkness, and their shadow clan of degrees* hold down the tables this one reeks jet fuel, african dust notebooks of coordinates that one sleeks wild hair, bespoke pockets memorized fragilities another cuts the gloom angled shoulders, sharpened words particulars recorded some are cool as lebanese cedar groves watching from internal heights some smoulder kamchatka…

Day 13: Carnival of Jesters

how they move through morning’s trees shimmering cast back the sky from wing and tail forecasting indulgent days of dance attendant on mawkish puppets shrieking naked lusting beaks out blindly trusting how they move the season’s cycle onward juggling songs up to the One eyes sharp for providence smuggling sticks in random symmetry, as home…

Day 12: Where I’m From

where i’m from you don’t shout hallelujah at dawn the sun is speaking you don’t shout it is in the turning open palms, open heart to the sky hallelujah at dawn this world-weary word much mouthed and maligned standing in for the unknown the sun is speaking older words, bright beyond any history unassailable, for…

Day 11: Language of Flowers

poets are responsible not to follow but to obey deeper laws underwriting simple would-be rules. the brief is to encounter and render each particular part of the larger song in accordance to the ongoing. thus if i give you harebells let them signify courage and the honour of thieves stealing room in which to raise…

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 8: Objection of Broken Boxes

1. think outside them — what am i, a cat? enticed playing this cardboard hard slapping it like sumo 2. who boxes, given sumo? in the dohyo, sacred space, you stand revealed belly, butt and naked fear eye to eye with yokozuna who only fights himself fighting only himself, he sees inevitable paths to victory…

Day 7: Secret Recipe

What makes a good secret? Purity of ingredients, you say and freshness: Paul is stale his dead or alive status moot. For better secrets, rely on imperishable things: old Bigfoot holds its flavour. Loves unspoken, too can last, if you remember: open the jar freely, and inhale. Exactitude matters, though when using Area: 49? 52?…