Clarity, Drunk
Uncle Dave had come upstairs to get my dad. There was much more drinking to be had, and to be fair to Dave (not really an uncle), my dad did have a habit of falling asleep in my room while his night was still young.
Dreamers Reading Room
The Queen of All She Surveyed
Lottie cried. She was not the one who usually cried. Evelyn was the one most often cradled in Beabea’s lap, gently
rocking back and forth while Beabea stroked her back.
Poems by Thistle Dunsmuir
here is a church in Barcelona
That has been under construction for a hundred years
And I wonder if it is still holy
In its incompletion
Poems by ky perraun
Here, in this Catholic hospital, with its crucifix
décor and daily contemplation, sparks kiss your temples
and your tongue is tied to the tunes of Mass.
Of Imagination All Compact
Thatcher was, by all accounts and sufferings of everyone who knew him, a genius. On the day he was to write the greatest novel in all eternity…
An Ode to My Shadow
Do you remember that late afternoon when I saw you across the room? I do, you called to me from the Toronto motorcycle trade show floor with your lights and dashing flames.
Gossedel the Wily
El’s house, like her, sat on the fringes of a polite community. Where the town ended and the fields began, a few houses, including El’s, barely remembered how to belong.
Concussed
My eyeballs twitch to blink, they dry out before I remember, staring but not seeing,
To
Blink.
Is This The Place?
The taxi drops me off in front of monumental Victorian gates of stone. The guard hands me a tourist map and
directs me to the genealogy office when I tell him I’m looking for family.