It’s almost midnight
and I’m driving Howe
on my way home
after a poetry reading
that went pretty well
when a man far from
any crosswalk, intersection,
or traffic light, jaywalks
across six lanes,
sees me slow down
so he can walk where
he wants at any pace,
but turns with dark eyes,
and fingers me or my Honda Civic
with a David Suzuki scowl
like we shouldn’t be
strutting the […]
they smile used smiles
like moose meat stuck in your molars
loud snow falls in the street light
outside the window
water fell from the fishermen’s line
with promises of the alphabet
October is slipping away
like lukewarm faith
like a dog chases its tail
the past bit me in the ass today
snow falls, seagulls hang suspended,
enthralled with distant planets
he stood alone
with a pelican’s […]
In May in Whitehorse
I sat in Mac’s Bookstore,
huddled behind a little table and
a stack of books, ready for signing,
filled with just one aching question,
Who is going to walk into Mac’s
on a warm Wednesday afternoon
seeking Come-By-Chance
about growing old in stories caught
between Atlantic and Pacific coasts?
And because I don’t know what
I’m doing in Mac’s Bookstore
I write in […]
