#CanadianWriters
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.
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…
She reclines, more or less, Try that posture, it’s hardly lang… Her right arm sharp angles. With her left she conceals her amb… Shoes but not stockings,
The water turns a long way down over the raw stone… ice crusts around it We walk separately along the hill to the open
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
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
This is a word we use to plug holes with. It's the right size fo… blanks in speech, for those red he… shaped vacancies on the page that… like real hearts. Add lace
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
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…
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
Secrecy flows through you, a different kind of blood. It’s as if you’ve eaten it like a bad candy, taken it into your mouth,
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…
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.
You begin this way: this is your hand, this is your eye, that is a fish, blue and flat on the paper, almost