Category: poetry

Omelet Nation

And a country slaps over on itself as the fatted pan heats, half bubbling half spitting its middle oozing, the diced and julienned facing off,

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Working the Room

Youโ€™re not half the artist he is, his work hanging, as you well know, in world-ranked museums of modern art not to mention that gallery

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Ocean Road

Some skincare people tried to bottle it once, the scent of that road to the beach, the essence of privilege breezing past toil, that heady

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Agamemnon, in Ontario

Would they come back to life a hundred times,ย ย for you to do the same againโ€ฆ No God warned you to cover your tracks, pull that

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Shifting Gears

The accident has made of me your old bike, beloved &         only ride, gear shifts unsteady, occasional tension spoke requiring realignment, night lighting, bell clear

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Hidden Gifts

Claim this feather call, colloid of song. If cackle were caw or whistle a taunt; if strutting had a sound, if pleading a peep. Listen.

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Essential

For those who take our midnight calls who cry who seek our voice in the dark who imagine who create who connect who listen who

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Ask the Children

The youngest know. They know boot crunch from tank whir, missile whistle from rocket whine. They can count seconds to boom and brazen light bursts,

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The Pupil

Vowels in the trickle of a fountain, chasing mosquitoes over a fake pond: โ€˜Aโ€™, โ€˜Eโ€™, โ€˜AAโ€™, โ€˜EEโ€™, โ€˜EIโ€™, โ€˜IJโ€™, โ€˜UIโ€™… Bueno. De nuevo. The low

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