#CanadianWriters
What should we have taken with us? We never could decide on that; or what to wear, or at what time of year we should make the journey
Evening comes on and the hills thi… red and yellow bleaching out of th… The chill pines grow their shadows… Below them the water stills itself… a sunset shivering in it.
An affair with Raymond Chandler, what a joy! Not because of the mangled bodies and the marinated cops and hints of eccentric sex, but because of his interest in furniture. He kn...
An other sense tugs at us: we have lost something, some key to these things which must be writings and are locked against us
More and more frequently the edges of me dissolve and I become a wish to assimilate the world, in… you, if possible through the skin like a cool plant’s tricks with ox…
You’re sad because you’re sad. It’s psychic. It’s the age. It’s… Go see a shrink or take a pill, or hug your sadness like an eyeles… you need to sleep.
Whether he will go on singing or not, knowing what he knows of the horror of this world: He was not wandering among meadows all this time. He was down there
Love is not a profession genteel or otherwise sex is not dentistry the slick filling of aches and cav… you are not my doctor
He, who navigated with success the dangerous river of his own bir… once more set forth on a voyage of discovery into the land I floated on
How did I get so dutiful? Was I… Going around as a child with a sma… sweeping up dirt I didn’t make, or out into the yard with a stunte… weeding the gardens of others
The red fox crosses the ice intent on none of my business. It’s winter and slim pickings. I stand in the bushy cemetery, pretending to watch birds,
My daughter plays on the floor with plastic letters, red, blue & hard yellow, learning how to spell, spelling,
You walked in front of me, pulling me back out to the green light that had once grown fangs and killed me. I was obedient, but
Cruising these residential Sunday streets in dry August sunlight: what offends us is the sanities: the houses in pedantic rows, the p…
She squats, bare feet splayed out, not graceful; skirt tucked around ankl… Her face is lined and cracked. She looks old,