#CanadianWriters
Two voices took turns using my eyes: One had manners, painted in watercolours, used hushed tones when speaking
Gone are the days when you could walk on water. When you could walk. The days are gone. Only one day remains,
The world is full of women who’d tell me I should be ashamed… if they had the chance. Quit danci… Get some self-respect and a day job.
i In view of the fading animals the proliferation of sewers and fe… the sea clogging, the air nearing extinction
The bronze clock brought with such care over the sea, which ticked like the fat slow hea… of a cedar, of a grandmother, melted and its hundred years
My daughter plays on the floor with plastic letters, red, blue & hard yellow, learning how to spell, spelling,
I am the heart of a murdered woman who took the wrong way home who was strangled in a vacant lot… who was shot with care beneath a t… who was mutilated by a crisp knife…
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
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
Whether is it possible to become l… Whether one tree looks like anothe… Whether there is water all around the edges or not. Whether there are edges or whether
It was taken some time ago. At first it seems to be a smeared print: blurred lines and grey flec… blended with the paper;
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
The water turns a long way down over the raw stone… ice crusts around it We walk separately along the hill to the open
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
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