#CanadianWriters
I do not mean the symbol of love, a candy shape to decorate cakes with, the heart that is supposed to belong or break;
Snow packs the roadsides, sends du… onto the pavement, moves through vision like a wave or sand… The bus charges this winter, a whale or blunt gray
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,
The rest of us watch from beyond t… as the woman moves with her jagged… into her pain as if into a slow ra… We see her body in motion but hear no sounds, or we hear
There is nothing to be afraid of, it is only the wind changing to the east, it is only your father the thunder your mother the rain
Gone are the days when you could walk on water. When you could walk. The days are gone. Only one day remains,
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
In the secular night you wander ar… alone in your house. It’s two-thir… Everyone has deserted you, or this is your story; you remember it from being sixteen…
He would like not to kill. He wou… what he imagines other men have, instead of this red compulsion. Wh… fail him and die badly? He would l… finger by finger and with great te…
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...
My daughter plays on the floor with plastic letters, red, blue & hard yellow, learning how to spell, spelling,
This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible: the song that forces men to leap overboard in squadrons
In winter the beach is empty but south, so there is no snow. Empty can mean either peaceful or desolate. Two kinds of people walk here:
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
He was the sort of man who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Many flies are now alive while he is not. He was not my patron.