#CanadianWriters
She squats, bare feet splayed out, not graceful; skirt tucked around ankl… Her face is lined and cracked. She looks old,
Living backwards means only I must suffer everything twice. Those picnics were already loss: with the dragonflies and the clear… What good did it do me to know
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:
Winter. Time to eat fat and watch hockey. In the pewter mo… a black fur sausage with yellow Houdini eyes, jumps up on the bed… to get onto my head. It’s his
Marriage is not a house or even a tent it is before that, and colder: The edge of the forest, the edge of the desert
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
You begin this way: this is your hand, this is your eye, that is a fish, blue and flat on the paper, almost
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
I would like to watch you sleeping… which may not happen. I would like to watch you, sleeping. I would like to sleep with you, to enter
My shadow said to me: what is the matter Isn’t the moon warm enough for you why do you need
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’...
The house we built gradually from the ground up when we were yo… (three rooms, the walls raw trees) burned down last year they said
Love is not a profession genteel or otherwise sex is not dentistry the slick filling of aches and cav… you are not my doctor
The water turns a long way down over the raw stone… ice crusts around it We walk separately along the hill to the open
It was taken some time ago. At first it seems to be a smeared print: blurred lines and grey flec… blended with the paper;