Thursday, November 15, 2018

Poem


We Can Have Both, But Not All
for Ashok Mathur

more? let’s begin with what we have

we have each other

say it

each other

no, all of it

            we have each other

we have each other

all together now

            all together now we have each other


Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Talonbooks Fall Poetry Launch



Talonbooks tends to launch its Fall (or Spring) titles all at once. Last night's Fall Poetry Launch featured five books and six authors, with Jónína Kirton hosting.

Pictured up top is Tiziana La Melia, author of The Eyelash and the Monochrome. Below is Treaty 6 Deixis by Christine Stewart:


Christine''s book, like Fred Wah's contribution to his and Rita Wong's beholden: a poem as long as the river, was written beside a river (the Columbia River for Fred; the kisiskâciwani-sîpiy or the North Saskatchewan for Christine). I have just started Christine's book and have not yet settled on who she means by "they".

Tuesday, November 13, 2018


A small room behind a bay window. A single bed, a table and chair, and a sink. I could manage something larger, with more conveniences, but I could never match the view.

The shoes come off outside the door and are left on a mat to the right of it. Inside the door are a pair of felt slippers, always warm because beside them is the heating vent.

On the inside of the door is a hook with a red mac on it. When I return, I remove my coat and replace it with the mac.

Sunday, November 11, 2018

Flowers



A watercolour by Ian Wallace entitled Poppies from a Field Near Pervillac, France, Summer (1997) currently on display at Fault Line Projects, Ganges, Salt Spring Island, B.C.

Saturday, November 10, 2018

Remembrance Day Poem


The Known Soldier
for Dana Claxton

I know her. I don’t know her
well, but we were friendly once 
until she said she had to go away
and that was it, when I saw her next
she wasn’t, not mean but indifferent
or preoccupied. I didn’t press
I just looked away, as she did with me
and this went on for some time
until one day we were approaching
each other and as we were passing
she reached out and touched me
touched my shoulder and I stopped
watched her hand slide away
but by then she was gone, crossing
at the light at the end of the block

Friday, November 9, 2018

Fu(rni)ture Shock



Whenever I think the world can't get any worse, and me with it, I look at Ettore Sottsass's Casablanca Sideboard (1981) and I think, Yes, things can get worse: I could visit my mother on Sunday and find Casablanca Sideboard jumping for joy in her dining room.