#CanadianWriters
In that country the animals have the faces of people: the ceremonial cats possessing the streets the fox run
All those times I was bored out of my mind. Holding the log while he sawed it. Holding the string while he measured, boar… distances between things, or pound…
i Behind glass in Mexico this clay doll draws its lips back in a snarl; despite its beautiful dusty shawl,
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
The eye is the organ of vision, and the third eye is no exception to that. Open it and it sees, close it and it doesn’t. Most people have a third eye but they don’t trust it. That wasn’...
Confess: it’s my profession that alarms you. This is why few people ask me to d… though Lord knows I don’t go out… I wear dresses of sensible cut
You, going along the path, mosquito-doped, with no moon, the… a single orange eye unable to see what is beyond the capsule of your dim
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
Starspangled cowboy sauntering out of the almost– silly West, on your face a porcelain grin, tugging a papier-mache cactus
Cruising these residential Sunday streets in dry August sunlight: what offends us is the sanities: the houses in pedantic rows, the p…
i In view of the fading animals the proliferation of sewers and fe… the sea clogging, the air nearing extinction
The snake hunts and sinews his way along and is not his own idea of viciousness. All he wants… a fast grab, with fur and a rapid pulse, so he can take that flutter…
The moment when, after many years of hard work and a long voyage you stand in the centre of your ro… house, half-acre, square mile, isl… knowing at last how you got there,
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.
This is the plum season, the night… blue and distended, the moon hazed, this is the season of peach… with their lush lobed bulbs that glow in the dusk, apples