tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-140594602024-02-03T11:32:20.588-03:30ButtongirlUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14059460.post-42326394086184131872007-03-14T12:28:00.000-02:302007-03-14T12:30:58.104-02:30<span style="color:#333399;">From the old poems folder:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;"><strong>In His Hands</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;">Murkiness<br />of pulp, progressive disintegration<br />of the strands. These are the fibres<br />we have in common. History,<br />as strength and density reduce,<br />the trajectory of matter as words slip<br />off the page and the whole liquefies, blends,<br />and meshed, is re-formed.<br />(The fragile value of brittle age.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;">***<br />The second-hand novel received with such significance--<br />a hint of discoloration in the corners<br />where your fingertips, palm, held<br />the book open, the sheets<br />offering up these words,<br />(would that they were mine<br />to be brushed so casually, dry<br />caress of a calloused hand<br />over thin yellowed<br />leaves, this touch so common<br />between us.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;">***<br />Found body<br />of a love letter, crushed<br />rose petals pressed between the folds,<br />faint scent lingering.<br />Years later, perhaps only a post card:<br />a European landscape, sketchy,<br />familiar writing, a few spare words about the weather.<br />The important stuff is never really said anyway. Not<br />while on vacation in the south of Spain,<br />(the sun heavy on your shoulders<br />like the hand of God. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;">***<br />We work to say more than ink tattooing the flesh of paper,<br />those sun-burned lengths peeled from shoulders and back,<br />can ever say. Listen,<br />always, wanting<br />to hear more.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14059460.post-1170875418559677172007-02-07T15:33:00.000-03:302007-02-07T15:42:07.506-03:30<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Barometric </span><br /><br /> </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Steel grey steamroller clouds overhead, my head </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">this morning in the clouds, watching </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">trees bend to the gale, burgeoning red </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">branch tips tossed and shaking </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">like tassels on a stripper’s tits. </span><br /> <br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">The sky has fallen. </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">The ceiling so low I am Chicken Little: </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">not running, only standing awed that it stopped </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> inches above me. Thunderheads </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> continue their tumbling roll in depths </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">of metallic grey – I can say silver, now. </span><br /> <br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">You said there was coldness to that colour </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">and predicted snow, but the thermometer </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">returned reality: 15 degrees. (What instruments we have... </span><br /> <br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Yesterday, rain drops pelted the car, fat </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">as your thumbprint in the small of my back, as wide </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">and wet as small fruit squashed underfoot, your moist eyes </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> glistening in the dark. The sound on the soft top foreign </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">to my ears, lacking the sharp ping and echo of metal, </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">like skin with its give and curves, the sudden drop of cheekbones. </span><br /> <br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">The rain, brief, sudden, without much relief, lacked the fury I yearned. </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Today morning clouds roll by. The wind whips last fall’s leaves into eddies </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">with garbage – flattened, sun-bleached, stiff, cracked cardboard and plastic –– </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">launches leftovers against cement curbs, the cement wall </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">of the rail overpass; concrete, tarmac, steel tracks, everything </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">blends into this awful sky. </span><br /> <br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">I’m holding out for release: I crave violence, thunder, lightening, </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">deafening electricity – to be in it with you under cover of the porch awning, </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">your hand channelling this furious charge into mine, through my body to be grounded, </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">out my feet into those old wood boards. We will stand after the storm, full </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">and defeated. And as we walk back to our close bed, the boards </span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">will bear the weight, and creak.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14059460.post-1138633772433493602006-01-30T11:32:00.000-03:302006-01-30T11:39:32.546-03:30Resurfacing <br /><br />Striped woollen toque slumped <br /> on the backseat car floor, a smear <br />of colour against dark carpet, blending <br />rough with pebbles, road salt, ground-in dried leaves – <br /><br />This casual interference, casual recall <br />of presence, questions of ownership, images conjured: <br />dark features, rugged skin to match the knit, nose <br />and cheeks flushed with November cold – already <br />it is spring, and seems the hat has been lying there, <br />forgotten all winter, this surprise appearance: <br />eyes rimmed by rolled knit edge – no alternating <br />duality to finish flat with even purl knit purl knit. <br /><br />Saucer face, eyes, and curved lip: hat top <br />bottom scarf – this cupped face, fairly steaming. <br /><br />Thought of the possible: <br /> Thieves cupping opportunist hands to backseat windows, <br /> or aiming penlights between the seats, at side-panel pockets for<br /> any item worth the 3 second break and grab – only<br /><br /> the toque and its red, yellow, brown stripes<br /> claiming a tired presence, eyes closed, the face<br /> drifting into carpeted oblivion. And he, <br /><br />the new passenger, casually checking<br />his backseat blind spot from the corner of his eye,<br />slides the seat further back, accommodating <br /> his leggy length, slightly pauses, mid sentence –<br /> the last word, almost<br />dropping off. <br /><br />Distance instils. Wandering thought. Flashing leap-split of synapse, linking 2&2: <br /><br />A headless hat.<br />The man<br />who’d worn it. <br /><br /> (swallowed,<br /> taken back.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14059460.post-1138585828750664942006-01-29T22:11:00.000-03:302006-01-29T22:26:29.350-03:30<span style="font-weight: bold;">Red Mustang</span><br /><br />askew in the intersection square of Sherbrooke and West Broadway:<br /><br />He stands some feet<br /> from the car, startled<br /> awake from one dream<br />to find himself locked in another.<br /><br />We're riveted in gridlock--<br />yellow tape and pylons delineate the edge<br />of his territory: a caged animal,<br />impromptu zoo, he's the first<br />in a three-ring circus--we stare<br />thick with onlookers, the sidewalk narrative travels waves of whisper while he turns<br />around on himself, a music-<br />box dancer, spinning<br />a slow nightmare.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14059460.post-1120075391729284162005-06-29T17:28:00.000-02:302005-06-29T17:33:11.736-02:30<b style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"><span style="font-size: 11pt;" lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-size:100%;">Bowls 3</span><o:p></o:p></span></b><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA">(for Steve)<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA">“You must see the world<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA">differently,” you said. “You must—<o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"><span style=""> <br /> </span>Just then,<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> struck by your cupped hand<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> arcing the spine of my slim volume, <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> its chord. Your fingers, slender<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> as the legs of <i style="">Pholcidae<span style="font-size:78%;"><a style="" href="#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style=""><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt;" lang="EN-CA">1</span></b></span></span></span></a></span></i> spiders,<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> still light on the page, resembling<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> grace, loosely held<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> filaments, silk spun like fingering<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> through the counters and bowls<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> of this score. You hold<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> the moment still, pulling<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> at this or that string, tension<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> in your hand balanced<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> by how lightly your fingers<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"> strike chords, still.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" lang="EN-CA">—see poetry in everything.” <o:p></o:p></span> <hr style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153); margin-left: 0px; margin-right: auto;font-size:78%;" width="33%"><span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-size:78%;" ><a style="" href="#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-CA"><span style=""><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 10pt;" lang="EN-CA">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></span></a><span lang="EN-CA"> </span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"><span style="font-size:78%;">Daddy Long Legs</span><o:p></o:p></span> <!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14059460.post-1120075075606480722005-06-29T17:26:00.000-02:302005-06-29T17:27:55.613-02:30<h1 style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt; text-decoration: none;" lang="EN-CA">Bowls II</span></b><span style="font-size: 11pt;" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /></h1> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">One stacked inside the other, <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">I carried them to you the way <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">a child tight-ropes down the hall holding a cup of coffee, <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">white knuckled, with both hands to his mother. <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">and she does not mind afterwards,<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">getting out of bed, padding down the hall, content<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">and proud, with the empty dishes,<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">the trailed round drops of coffee, puddles of affection<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">she almost doesn’t want to scrub out.<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">The carpet is so threadbare already.<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">These bowls, an offering.<span style=""> </span>Completely<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">empty except for each other.<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">Their ill-fit rattling, my hands<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">trembling like wind on still water. <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">Set the bowls down side by side.<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">Do not criticize the chips, the wear.<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">Imagine only<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA">what they can hold.<o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14059460.post-1120074976506207732005-06-29T17:23:00.000-02:302005-06-29T17:26:16.513-02:30<h1 style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); text-align: left; font-family: georgia;"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt; text-decoration: none;" lang="EN-CA">Bowls</span></b></h1> <div style="text-align: left; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">For a moment, stillness as before rain.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">The kitchen holds me.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA"> The many bowls, <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">filled, once, with your lukewarm soup<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">are lined on the counter in all their simple imperfection, waiting <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">to be wrapped in newsprint and stacked in boxes.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">This is not an easy decision.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">We threw out the peels from onions and potatoes <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">long ago -- such hearty food!<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">The eyes, cut out like so many bad metaphors, <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">lay crying in the garbage by the sink for days <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">before we knotted the bag and left it at the curb.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">Now, such a fragile reminder.<span style=""> </span>I’m packing gingerly.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">Cleaned, dried, the chipped earthenware pieces, the unbreakable <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">Corning Ware with blue trim.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">The kitchen walls blur.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">We shift slightly and adjust<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">to focus, contain all this, anew:<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">the bowls, <span style=""> </span>the room<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">& movement.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA">(Like bats, by sonar.)<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" lang="EN-CA"><o:p> </o:p></span> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14059460.post-1120069953763686782005-06-29T15:59:00.000-02:302006-01-29T22:11:37.520-03:30<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">Armadillo<o:p></o:p></span></b><br /><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Windshield wipers pulse,<o:p></o:p><br />timing traffic lights, blinking<o:p></o:p><br /><o:p> </o:p><br />at the armadillo in the parking lot,<o:p></o:p><br />far corner from Loblaw’s<o:p></o:p><br /><o:p> </o:p><br />huddled at the intersection, sheltered<o:p></o:p><br />by a lean-to of fir trees netted in green plastic<o:p></o:p><br /><o:p> </o:p><br />minus 27, minus 40 with the wind, the camper<o:p></o:p><br />rocks with each gust of eastbound traffic<o:p></o:p><br /><o:p> </o:p><br />(yesterday the fur of his hood frosted with breath, <o:p></o:p><br />I lugged the tree home and righted it, let it thaw.)<o:p></o:p><br /><o:p> </o:p><br /><st1:time hour="19" minute="42">7:42</st1:time> on the car dash, rushing<o:p></o:p><br />to school to daycare to work. he sleeps,<o:p></o:p><br /><o:p> </o:p><br />I imagine, under layers of wool blankets, a rustic pot-bellied <o:p></o:p><br />stove burning the raw sawed-off stumps of trees he’s sold,<o:p></o:p><br /><o:p> </o:p><br />needs to keep selling, to stay warm<o:p></o:p><br />through the night, keeps an ear cocked<o:p></o:p><br /><o:p> </o:p><br />for an approaching engine, the quick crisp footsteps<o:p></o:p><br />of thieves stealing trees from the lot, or he’s out<o:p></o:p><br /><o:p> </o:p><br />another 25 or 40, another stump of fuel, an hour’s<o:p></o:p><br />warmth. what furred burrowing in, what layers<o:p></o:p><br /><o:p> </o:p><br />of animal pelts, what woodland creature does he become<o:p></o:p><br />concealed in that metal-armoured shell?</span><o:p></o:p></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0