19.12.16

For my Mother on her Birthday

Moon mother
Way up there
Off to work
Before morning
My dishes put away
Red wine rings
On night glasses

Moon mother
Somewhere near Dog Star
but not too close
Off across the sky
before morning

Moon mother
coaxes me down from ledges
Flattens the sky
Until I see dust
around her lashes
dinner's taken care of

Moon mother
Calls me when she walks the dog
Talks business at 9pm
We eclipse glimpses
Every once in a while

30.9.16

Séance

Catch-all psychics leave white damp doilies. Black ants march at the no answer. Marsh light vomits through blinds blinded bug-winded old man nests on mats splotchy skin sweaty river crossers ford for no answer. Take a calculated risk. Pay out pray but try not pry knots off no answer. Sanction done over-overall drawn small psychics leave horoscope Mercury liquid to trickle in your underwire. Take a breath. Try to think. Count down until you can hold your Yukon Jack close to firepits close to the overpass where we performed Super Depression Research. Take a pill. It's an above average Sunday for a Monday.

14.5.16

Hansel & Gretel

ignore traffic signs
you're in a hurry to get there

wiggle onto the tough
leather saddle
of the old man's Gazelle
lioness, hunch
pounce and tear off
the gear shift (oh shit)

uncordoned aim
less human expansion

the sea kept them back
until they got crafty
rode around polders
taunted the fish
or built windmills
on fish hills
sea mills
turbines with geometric scales

cobblestone twists
farmlands/villages

Heather on hillside keeps
healthy distance
enough centuries to mature
into the illusion
of bald contentment
the woods
keep Table Mountain out
of the sun its
Northern Ontario mosquitos
bewitched into fairy white bulls
by residential schools

stop for an ice cream
stop for a six-pack
stop for a sign

13.4.16

Breakfast

In my rush to make
breakfast we are all out of
eggs
bread
milk
cheese
bacon
and the parsley has a yellowish
tinge like it's possessed by
the Necronomicon.
I hope it tastes all right.

21.3.16

Bust of Stadholder-King William III (1650-1702), 1699 - Jan Blommendael

The curls of his wig
like a mountain of skulls
a drugged pose,
ready for the brush
The eye lands softly, 
confrontationally, 
on the mighty-minded man.
"Wie bent u?" – 
deference still necessary – 
we have manners after all.
We won't be so lucky to have busts made
After the fall.

Driving the Gardiner

Driving the Gardiner
is how the Christian virtues died

like noble old sages too pure and
patient, they let four vehicles merge in

front before they got rear ended and
ended. Driving the Gardiner

is a monastic event or some kind of
secular pilgrimage given that

we don't have a Cluny in Ontario
and France's crumbles like the Gardiner

the French one being where the refectory used to
serve pea soup and they put mustard on everything.

How much money did the Cluniac Order receive
from the provincial government? I hope it

covered the costs of fixing the leaky spot in the
porter's house, where water drips in without

asking permission or showing its driver's
license and pisses on manuscripts. Driving the Gardiner

gives you a terrific sense of impotence like
you feel when the abbot gets tired of waiting

for you to orgasm and he puts his habit back on.
The King of England gave him a chalice last

September, just before they closed the left lane
for 3 kilometres between Jameson and Spadina

and put up a sign saying CONSTRUCTION
along with some barricades and traffic cones

The sign ends with a hopeful deadline,
will be completed by The Rapture.