Tuesday, 31 March 2015

1 New Poem

So Well You Take It

This tangle swings open, about,
rusting screen door slamming
in causeway bravery breeze,
the meeting across rickety
pizza shop tables in broken
tumbling slot-blind, the still
life snapshot I take of
rolling hillside slopes,

how they remind of bittered
white branch sawed, hanging
in half-steps, up to bright
suburban siding, up to darker
alleyways stirring in the limelight,
and back criss-crossing the
Interstate Highways.

Your Midwest accents keep a
flame, stain smoke on the billboard
backings, between city spires.

Sunday, 22 March 2015

1 New Poem

Kitchen Fixtures

It's those dragging-sharp knives,
those stinging cuts soaked in
kosher salt licks, acidic pungent
of spices tangled on tongue,
that take me, cap in hand,
to again the cobblestone corner,
the wildly-walked pacer's place,
you take in still bed sheet crease.

Homecooked presence staining memory,
there was your hand in handle,
wishing upon tablecloth settings
we could share in that heart smoulder's
glow, that quick candle-shadow
diamond commercial silhouette,
the coupling kind for those who've
never worried an egg timer's second

of diving a foursome's cookbook
for one.

Friday, 20 March 2015

1 New Poem

Space for Pill Bottles

This flushed, spiced blood reeling
back, boxer's punch glove in
still-life smile, made the bones
more visible day by day, watch hand
by green oven clock light,
never could quite tear from plastic
hands, never could push away your
candy-sweets and oiling slosh.

When you'd nail your will name
to the Lord's house door, shameful
in the Sunday tea time sun, I'd
take down to thumb the pages clean
of ink shrivel wrapping blank stain
left in fingerprint cascades, the
same marking of greasy tripwire
facade you fake in the theatre hour.

Thursday, 12 March 2015

1 New Poem

City Blueprints

There still panics the crystalline glow
of Mac's Milk CIBC instant teller
flickers, hearts pounding a pulse
increased by measure stick, pressure cup,
bitter over stage-fright sweats, nothing
you were

calmly embarked, canoeing clank,
river's middle in the ever-flowing
effervescence of time, clinging to
branch and vine before the concrete
poured, the gun powder bleached,
boots trammeled

the navy blue shimmer, chest medal
and all we wore in splendour ignorance,
all vestige tumult spilling down the
stoplight corridor crossing, Popsicle
stick and chewing gum twine in
living construction.

Wednesday, 4 March 2015

1 New Poem

Floating Weeds

It's still amazing, the speeding grace
the kind of hum-drum bleat the Gatineau
gypsy cab clamour has to me,
a river's rhythm unheard but to

an ear attuned past cruder shouts,
past tick-board tin clatter,
to shaded eyes it draws forever in
coattail chasers, dreamers and all.

It makes your half-bent heresy some mocking
wake of itself, blonde lock in blue framing,
scolding the untamed space this bricken tangle
used to be, in all form of torch-light ache.

I float with my fingers, though, ivory
on spring-chord clang against the newness
of skin-touch, against the brutalist
fires you conjure in places long hidden.