Rising Signs by Chimwemwe Undi

a golden shovel after John K. Samson   I move towards renaming this the other season. Let’s call this light our holy crop sprung up after the fallow stretch, after we withstood and wandered, bitched, rapped against the sharp part of the curb, dislodged salt and those reluctant months, the … [click for more]

Rideshare by Ben Robinson

Usually I do this drive alone but today a housefly snuck inside my car and now the two of us are travelling 124 km/h listening to the voice of Carol Off. The fly sits on my head and then my leg. The fly flies down and rests its feet on … [click for more]

Hearing the Grass by Allan Briesmaster

How we implant a voice on quiet things – make the lawn say “I’m pleased at being trim (but let me loose, I will escape your wish).” Press an ear down, now, though, and dare listen to sounds below a soft whisper’s threshold. Hear green whirr from whole choirs of … [click for more]

LIGHT by Souvankham Thammavongsa

Because glass has not yet   learned to bend   and because even now   glass will not bend   light must come in bent   Copyright © Souvankham Thammavongsa. Originally published in Found (Pedlar Press, 2007).   – Souvankham Thammavongsa is a poet and fiction writer, and author of four books … [click for more]

Lingua Ignota by Annick MacAskill

for Hildegard von Bingen     You’ll never know why, but one day bend  your feathered head, still soft    as an infant’s, over a manuscript, spill  the peal of your voice    to one bald scribe, and you’re lost to centuries.  The wide-eyed nights of oil painters   are sowed within your verse; you … [click for more]

Tentaculum Sonnets by Sarah Burgoyne

IV. a moonloose death across a branch sleeveless  cloak or cape my night bird as   something that conceals o mantle of darkness  portion me  milesthick i haven’t circulated crust  or core the bird nor its wounds its six, eight,   nine or seven, where i want to end  up o outgrowth the body walls  somewhere between these sounds  that line … [click for more]

Retrouver — Nolan Natasha

The burgers come slow  and we talk about next time—  I’d like to be a man, you say  but you take this back before pointing  your phone at the grackle  leering at our table. You  have a thing for the ugly birds,   post them on Instagram #nofilter.  Or maybe, I’ll be … [click for more]

blue, bad mothers — natalie hanna

                                            The League of Canadian Poets regrets that there is no accessible version of this poem available.   natalie hanna is an Ottawa lawyer working with low income populations. … [click for more]

she testifies by Doyali Islam

                                                    The League of Canadian Poets regrets that there is no accessible version of this poem available. Doyali Islam‘s “she testifies” was first published in Canthius and … [click for more]

“XIX — the story of death by O” by Whitney French

water is the keeper  holding memory within its waves;  the washing of death.   scarred skulls splash against  the shore, liquids drying from  a crisping corpse,  shapes your mind to die.   ocean asks to save this,   to solidify this transition  to the next world  in a wave;  the water … [click for more]

On the Move by James Arthur

Now that my work’s done and it’s Saturday, now that my young son is out somewhere with his mom, I might as well roam all morning, spying on the filthy squirrels, and on the shapes that disintegrating leaves have painted on the sidewalk. I might as well spend the morning … [click for more]

How Endings Multiply by Penn Kemp

Fox, at the end of a long shenanigan, you are just fox, going about a fox’s affairs as yourself. Taking care of the business of  survival, ensuring the propagation of your species. Listen, I release you to the wild that is your home, beyond fantasy land.  I realize you are … [click for more]

La Flor de Talpa by Karin Cope

Mother, how can I describe the scent of ripe guavas? Mix rose and lime with a sprinkling of vanilla, still you will not come close.  Add a sparkle of cinnamon to the tip of your tongue. A guava insinuates itself, commands your attention. Always sticky, sap oozes from the stem … [click for more]

Raising a Boy by Armand Garnet Ruffo

For Alex   teach him he is beginning teach him to put his hand on his chest teach him to take this thing he feels for his mother teach him his mother is the earth teach him to take it in his hand teach him to blow on it and … [click for more]

A Question for Choying by Shannon Bramer

Are you going to write it down? You should because your words are snowy animals in the woods. Your letters are delicate like your hands. This is my winter alphabet. You are my snow angel on the carpet, writing in your notebook. Are you going to write it down? You … [click for more]

the ant by Doyali Islam

The League of Canadian Poets regrets that there is no accessible version of this poem available. — Doyali Islam’s second poetry book is heft (McClelland & Stewart, 2019). Poems from this collection have been published in Kenyon Review Online and Best Canadian Poetry; have won several national contests and prizes; and … [click for more]

Cub by Ben Ladouceur

September 6, 2018, Byward Market, Ottawa   Yes, my friend, a tree is a great place for a beast. But here we have a tree with a city at its feet. In the woods I got good at laying roaring fires and lying down, despite the damp, to sleep. To … [click for more]

LVIII by Sonnet L’Abbé

Let that shit go, forebrain. Dismiss the atrocity meandering still in memory. To first traumas you remain slave, if the shadows of ugly doings stalk your thoughts and control your times of pleasure. Cortex, be rational! Psychological understanding should mean deleting the neural account of terror’s hours. Terror, cranium? You … [click for more]

August by Kirby

  . . The tomatoes are glorious .                                  [I still remem- ber how he handled them]     Copyright © Kirby. Originally published in This Is Where I Get Off (Permanent Sleep Press, 2019).   … [click for more]

You Shall Have Homes, 1928 by Kim Fahner

(for N.C. Wyeth)    Pale, bare feet rooted deeply  in muck, but slim reeds reach to grey sky. Fingers that tease— gentle now— .           up sculpted curve of calves, .           curling around a waist,  .           draping across breasts.   She lifts her eyes.  Wants to soar … [click for more]

COLOUR by Mark Truscott

The time it takes the i to enter is is the time it takes two ideas to relate is the time it takes the sun to rise to where it is this instant. I write last night I watched dark clouds stream cirrous across the moon. And now the blue … [click for more]

little birds by Valerie Dawn

. . outside my window little birds drop like parachuted gifts onto the war torn reaches of my soul   Copyright © Valerie Dawn. Honourable mention in the Very Small Verse Contest from the League of Canadian Poets (2019).   – Valerie Dawn is a seventy-year-old retired Registered Nurse and Clinical … [click for more]

Fold by Maureen Hynes

Autumn rains are settling in; tonight as we drove through the city, the asphalt roads shone like black mirrors, yellow leaves pasted against them, in their luminous and shattered millions. After the diagnosis – another beginning for us, this one not expansive but tight. At night I lie behind you … [click for more]

A haiku by Irene Golas

          growing deaf… if only I could lip-read the sparrow’s song   Copyright © Irene Golas. Originally published in Breccia: Haiku and Related Forms by Irene Golas & Ignatius Fay (2012).   – Irene Golas is co-author of Breccia, a collection of haiku and related forms. Her … [click for more]

Fear of Intimacy by Robin Richardson

I love you is the battle cry of a master I love you I want to be with you is breaking into your apartment when you’re fast asleep is starting fires is turning the walls to glass is burning the books the white fur floral dress is carrying a red … [click for more]

Shy Nipples by Rebecca Păpucaru

Say it. Say this word: nipple. Unerotic, non? Now try it with this modifier: inverted. Not unusual, the pediatrician told mother. But hardly common. We left his office with instructions for the Hoffman technique¹ today disavowed by nipple hygienists. My pubescent breasts had dimples for noses; my plight three grades. … [click for more]

Going Forth by Day by Liz Howard

The day was leaf litter And excess packaging If I was the choked woman In the centre of Kahlo’s bathtub It is also the obscene contract Of the Americas that renders me Startling from my poverty yet I eclipsed A vacant limb no less hymnal no less vernal In being … [click for more]

Under the Arm of Things by Katie Fewster-Yan

Confronting birds, we tear large chunks from our baguettes. Passing a tree, we strip off handfuls of sun-hungry leaves, still breathing. We get bored, pick weeds. That’s life. We get to live all sides of it. The splintering, the eating, and the dying. You roll past a massive and elaborately … [click for more]

Transition by Ali Blythe

It’s this not knowing when the guest will leave and you are the guest. Not quite knowing where to sit, the couch?, or how often to clean or cook before it’s more a chore for your host who seems to be a horse with eyes that narrow in the wide … [click for more]

INTEGERS by Mark Truscott

Predawn birdsong anticipates the negative before light allows sensation to give it shape. The sound instances itself, hangs  in isolation, and so waking is like a burrowing into the narrowest of intervals. Meanwhile the mind’s clearing is a collapse of proximity, distance and signal.  I don’t know how I feel, … [click for more]

Bouncy Ball by Lisa Hazelwood

. . . I am chased By the hand that threw me away. This is love?   Copyright © Lisa Hazelwood. Honourable mention in the Very Small Verse Contest from the League of Canadian Poets (2019).   – Lisa Hazelwood is a Toronto-based writer. Her poetry has been published in magazines such … [click for more]

Tales of a Night Bird by Kim Fahner

(for Judi)   Bird in a window, sliced Venetian, streetlights illuminating sharp wings, so that it soars across your white wall when you close your eyes at night, thinking maybe you won’t notice, or that its ghost won’t perch in dreams,  etched there and ready to fly.   In night-hours, it … [click for more]

Review: These Wings by Kim Fahner

Pedlar Press| 2019 | 80 Page | $22.00 | Purchase online Reviewed by Vera Constantineau   First, let’s talk about the physical aspects of this poetry collection. These Wings is as light as a feather—no pun intended. Inside the smooth cover the feel of the pages is surprisingly substantial, like a … [click for more]

gnashing by Jocelyn Anderson

waiting in anticipation can’t stomach the idea of you squeezing a lemon brushing your teeth pulling your dirty tee shirt over your head drinking a glass of water and a drop rolls down your chin onto your collar and you wipe at it with the back of your hand   … [click for more]

Bird Slips, Moon Glows by Linda H.Y. Hegland

Bird falls down drifts of wind, tossed by storm and chance.   Longs for the succor of dry leaf and moss, soft, wings bruised.   In the chilling night,  communion. Slips into fur of fox, or skin of wild human. Says . . .  I’ll grow my hair long and tangled again; let jaw … [click for more]

Fermentation by Rachel Jansen

We push broken cabbage into brine, add sprigs of dills, balls of allspice, skinned garlic that slips through my hands. Sleep hangs off me like an old shirt and I rub my eyes until they salt. Last night we were kept awake by someone stomping around the farmhouse until the … [click for more]

recipes in a dead language by Amy LeBlanc

cupboard number one: Folded flour bags glazed like snow­– breaking twist ties on cans with labels turned inward. You see the light between their dents and vertical lines, ingredient lists in Latin. The door shuts in an ode to the truffle and the saltine, with only a paper corner to … [click for more]

President: Sarah de Leeuw

Currently President of the League of Canadian Poets, Sarah de Leeuw is a professor who holds a Canada Research Chair in Humanities and Health Inequities with the Northern Medical Program at UNBC, the Faculty of Medicine at UBC. Her scholarly and creative work focus on marginalized people and geographies, especially … [click for more]

Treasurer: Michael Andrews

An accomplished Operations and Finance executive with experience across multiple sectors and industries, Michael Andrews is recognized for his ability to see beyond the numbers to recognize transformational business opportunities. Michael currently serves as COO of Access Copyright, a collective that distributes millions of dollars annually in licensing royalties to … [click for more]

Ontario Regional Representative: Claudia Coutu Radmore

Including three years training teachers in Vanuatu as a CUSO cooperant, Montreal-born writer Claudia Coutu Radmore has lived, taught and created art in Quebec, Ontario, Manitoba, and China. She is the President of Haiku Canada. Claudia started catkin press in 2012, and along with several full collections, Accidentals (Apt. 9 … [click for more]

Past President: Ayesha Chatterjee

Born and raised in India, Ayesha Chatterjee has lived in England, the USA and Germany and now calls Toronto home. She is the author of two poetry collections. Her poems have appeared in journals across the world including The Missing Slate (Pakistan), The Moth (Ireland) and CV2 (Canada)  and have … [click for more]

Alberta-NWT Regional Representative: Rayanne Haines

Rayanne Haines is an award-winning fiction author and poet, and the co-host of the poetry podcast, Let’s Get Lit. She was executive director of the Edmonton Poetry Festival from 2012 to 2019. In 2018, she was a feature artist for Capital City Press with Edmonton Public Library. In January 2019, … [click for more]

mosom by Samantha Marie Nock

    Order a copy of this issue of CV2 here. – Samantha Marie Nock is a Cree-Métis writer, jr front end web developer, database nerd, and certified cat lady from the BC Peace Region. Her family originally comes from Île-à-la-Crosse (Sakitawak), Saskatchewan. She has been published in Canadian Art, … [click for more]

As You Wish by Shirley Camia

you are still in the philippines by a dock inhaling sea salt enjoying the dance of the palms your ancestral home of your nieces and nephews sisters and brothers mother and father above and below the ground where the taste of milkfish is clean and pure where you are full … [click for more]

Signs of Chamomile by Mollie Coles Tonn

Cardinal in a tree, berries gnashed in its beak, I crouch low to the soil to see what’s left of the garden I’ve inherited. Lupine spines, mushrooms, poisons I graze without plucking. My friend Anita says everything will bud in their perfect timing. I search for remains in the dirt, … [click for more]

Blue Roof Farm Revisited by Elizabeth Greene

That house will never let her go, says Helen. It hasn’t.  Kim, 89, bent, silvery, warm brown eyes, light starting to fall through her, leads us to her long low kitchen, wood floors scuffed from generations of children and dalmatians (gone now, the house marking their absence with silence). .  … [click for more]

The crow swallowed my eye by sophie anne edwards

. . . . The crow swallowed my eye, and laughed.   Copyright © sophie anne edwards. Honourable mention in the Very Small Verse Contest from the League of Canadian Poets (2019).   – sophie anne edwards walks and creates site-specific and responsive poetry on Mnidoo Mnising (Manitoulin Island). Her work … [click for more]

MECHANICAL PENCIL by Beth Follett

. Our lives run like sparks through the rubble.  — Derek Jarman   You shouted awhile and he proposed some things. Night at the opera. The room swayed and rocked, pressed up against one another, the atmosphere buoyant. Hard to pinpoint the exact moment of possession. You were like magnets. … [click for more]

Caraway by Maria Scala

A cold blast of air each time the door opened bell dinging, expectant smile: Are you from the family? As I packed the milk away from the meat I’d say no, and explain to the coiffed customer who’d already stopped listening. When I cut my thumb on the big slicer … [click for more]

Review: Radiant | By Kate Marshall Flaherty

Inanna Publications | 2019 | $18.95 | Purchase online Reviewed by Lesley Strutt   Kate Flaherty’s collection of poems in Radiant is an uplifting treatment of one of life’s most excruciating experiences – cancer. Rather than drifting into self-pity, Flaherty finds a moment in almost every poem to celebrate being alive. When … [click for more]

Tatiana in Gaspra, 1902 by Annick MacAskill

Father’s flesh has faded from his bones— his second-to-last rites your last blessings in the duchess’s Crimean cottage, where sunlight bleaches out his lips, the romance of his hands curved about a desk, a notebook; under the stink of camphor, the milky gaze and the refusal that have endured his … [click for more]

MY (YOUR) HOME MOVIE by Alexei Perry-Cox

Of the films you never made during les années des plomb¹ .              my favourite is Territoire de L’instant (Land of the Moment). After your funeral, I use the video camera you used to document my dance recitals .             to … [click for more]

belly breath by Eli Tareq Lynch

it fell      underneath me it is falling                           over my wept breaths my chest falls     in breaths outside              short breaths outside all the lungs        are falling outside              collapsing snot i don’t want to remember                another time they pushed me yesterday              or know the feeling                           of how they pushed me yesterday or … [click for more]

Bow by Kaie Kellough

                                                        . . . . . . This concrete pastoral poem is a rift. This rift is in fact a river. The image … [click for more]

Chaiwala by Manahil Bandukwala

I kiss my lover the same way I make a cup of tea: pour water and milk into a saucepan, watch them swirl together, teabag just peeking out above the surface; you and I and tangled legs and tangled hair. Turn the heat up slowly, kisses, first gentle, cinnamon on … [click for more]

Love Numbers by Madhur Anand

What is that rule? I before Me, except after She. I am too obedient to tidal potential To find the right constant for susceptibility. Ten little houseplants, all gifts, unloved, but essential To keep love alive. Still I desire a Boston fern For its atmosphere. How it winterizes characters In … [click for more]

Patience by Annick MacAskill

Morning that stretches past noon, makes its presence known. Birds keep calling because their Google calendar shut itself off during the night. The children in your building are all off to school— you envy their lunch bags, their lined notebooks, their coloured everything. The sight of a woman’s hand threaded … [click for more]

The Sky Between Two Roofs by Jamie Wang

There were two roofs. One was black, one was grey. In between them was a sky. Sometimes, the sky seemed so far away. Sometimes it was near. On hot summer days, The clouds would drift aimlessly between the two roofs, While a breeze swirled around white petals that settled in … [click for more]

LITTLE GIRL/CHAOS BRINGER by Joelle Barron

.           You must ask yourself: .           where is it snowing? .                        Louise Gluck, Persephone the Wanderer   Louise’s poem, the mother chops her daughter into chuck. In mythology, as in popular culture, … [click for more]

Insomnia by Peter Taylor

The brain’s a room where ideas file languid and recover until fear, the white flame, creates burnt space. The past is cinders, thought ashes. Their dull roaring keeps me awake beneath the skull’s electric crematorium. I imagine whole decades burning in a pure conflagration. Abrupt as tinder, the mind ignites … [click for more]

6 Pieces on Poetry with Nisha Patel

Who are the members of the League of Canadian Poets? With over 750 members – growing every day -, our membership is diverse. Of course, though, all members have one thing in common: poetry! 6 Pieces on Poetry is our new quarterly series where members of the League will answer our 6 … [click for more]

Translation by Sound by Natasha Ramoutar

एक-ing like a long lost bird, like a दो from her mother, like the young तीन with a half-mended heart | चार your venison deep red, mix the blood with पांच while छ-tting among your neighbours | I once सात at the edge of the world | The आठ-or always … [click for more]

Alone and together by Lenea Grace

I will sit next to you on a Tuesday, pack cardboard boxes and cut red string, drink an afternoon coke or two, get the hang of each other – the lay of a new land mapped in conversation, versed in a walking song – .            … [click for more]

The Call by Jude Goodwin

The call comes just as she closes her eyes, the brown cat curled behind her calves, the window partly open letting in a bit of spring breath, a bit of early dark. A call from the blue room, the cave of teenager, with its mirrored blanket blocking the doorway, its … [click for more]

Greek Rose by Maria Scala

I come back to the table and find you with a Greek rose. The waiter says, Only for a special girl. Outside on Carlaw we wait for the light to change you holding that napkin flower away from your body.   Copyright © Maria Scala.   – Maria Scala lives with … [click for more]

693 Cemetery Road by Maureen Hynes

We lived a week in the slope-ceilinged, head-hitting house, banged our knees against the banister, nailed pillows against the rafters, abandoned our books in the sand. Spilled every kind of tea, crushed blueberries to mask our bruises. Sunrise pierced our eyes awake. The sky filled and emptied, fog surrounded the … [click for more]

White Flag by Karen Enns

Our lives are dreamlike and ungrounded. What we thought we understood is left behind in yellowed newsprint on the seats of trains and buses, in the cellars of old houses with uneven roofs. What do we know of the solid calculations of our age? Wavering air takes hold of our … [click for more]

7 am, morning dark by Stephanie Chang

My mother wakes up before anyone else in the flat. She tells me it precedes her sometimes, how her husband doesn’t live here anymore. She’s sick with stomach pain again, chamomile mouth unzipping saliva from gums. So my father takes my sister and I out for home-style Korean. We laugh … [click for more]

I’m Your Man by Karen Mulhallen

Well there were the three of us, Jules, Larissa and I, at Snakes and Lattes which has a lot to do with the milk of human kindness in the dark places where the old serpents lead us, on the edge of Remembrance Day, talking of Leonard Cohen While only a … [click for more]

Chrysanthemum by Fiona Tinwei Lam

Rolls of rice paper in the corner, jars of soft-haired brushes, elegant cakes of watercolour, black inkstone at the centre. My mother held the brush vertically, never slant, arm and fingers poised, distilling bird or breeze into diligent rows of single characters. Hours rippled.  Years of practice urged the true … [click for more]

Home Address by Jaclyn Desforges

I know you, he says, and he’s wrong. Somewhere inside her there is a forest and in the forest there is a meadow and in the meadow there is a cottage and in the cottage she’s peeling potatoes and boiling water for soup. Confident of her whereabouts in a way … [click for more]

All Purple by Jonathan Chu

The sky here is purple.  On a good summer’s day, .                          you can hear the flick .              slip of koi dipping out of pitch. Raindrop shatters .              against barnacle … [click for more]

In Duplicate by Anna Yin

.                                    Beware of things in duplicate – Dana Gioia   These days I read for signs: on a table, a set of blue china, at the window, a spider’s web… Over my head, … [click for more]

OVERCAST by stephanie roberts

you’ve tasted the soup of scorched tomato and broccoli that set your teeth on edge but you’ve not met that loss that permanently skews the jaw grief that plants sunset in the eye forever remember the high-spirited mum with a quick and rainbow smile whose daughter died at nine many … [click for more]

In Al Purdy’s House by James Arthur

It is strange, living in the house of a writer who has died. I use your cutlery, your typewriter. I read your autobiography while lying in your bed, trying to imagine Roblin Lake and this lakeside piece of land as they were sixty years ago, when you and Eurithe built the … [click for more]

That Instrument of Laughter by Canisia Lubrin

Nowadays I like to say cool cool cool thrashing my tongue like iguana before even a li’l wind ruffle my branch. Because that was the dark, that was the dark between my lips, saying nothing beyond the resolute, so I forlorn, cool? Here is where the chronicle of a small life turned … [click for more]

Waking in the Preceding by Ali Blythe

Hello my forever ago, don’t worry, you won’t be reading this much longer. You will have already returned in the body of a snowcloud which is suggestively, fashionably, only ever one second old. Yes darling, it’s me, it says as proof that in space, though there are many silences, fleeting … [click for more]

To my mother, aloud by E. Canine McJabber

Send your snail mail and I’ll hide the table salt. When I stamped my last mail-order bride, she threw the book at me. Her velvet twinset in divorce court the only good pairing that came of our match. Now, I work hotlines pushing human tissue samplings: primed for fucks or … [click for more]

Girl Gives Birth to Thunder by K.B. Thors

It was more a clearing of space than conception, a slice less electric than imagined. Lightning rods are crosshairs of least resistance, so why go out of your way to carve cold room root cellars for another collapsed shaft of parenthood? The wedge we want is a clamour—cutline access to … [click for more]

My Father’s Grief by Pamela Porter

I want to take away my father’s grief. I want to unravel the thread of it from his shirts.  I want to scrub the dirt-black seams of it from his fingernails. I want to sweep it from the doorways of his house, wash it from the walls and hinges .  … [click for more]

Fresh Voices 17

Welcome to the seventeenth edition of Fresh Voices, a project from and for the League’s associate members, edited by Joan Conway and Blaine Marchand. The League’s associate members are talented poets who are writing and publishing poetry on their way to becoming established professional poets in the Canadian literary community. We … [click for more]

Jaws (1975) by Sennah Yee

. . . It reminds me of you—no, not the shark. The shooting star in that quiet scene on the boat, beautiful but brief.           Copyright © Sennah Yee. Originally published in Arc Poetry Magazine (Issue 86, Summer 2018).   – Sennah Yee is from Toronto, where … [click for more]

Reconciliation by Gwen Benaway

.                  “I am not a saint. I am a crooked good.” .                               —Louise Bernice Halfe kaawin ninisidotawaasii .               nijaa’ge, zhaaganaash I am … [click for more]

The Writing Parent: On Work

Column by Vanessa Shields I know there are many of us who are writers and parents. This is a wild duality to live. My intention with this column is to write about the challenges of being a parent and a writer. I aim to share stories that reflect both the difficult … [click for more]

6 Pieces on Poetry with Allan Briesmaster

Who are the members of the League of Canadian Poets? With over 750 members – growing every day -, our membership is diverse. Of course, though, all members have one thing in common: poetry! 6 Pieces on Poetry is our new quarterly series where members of the League will answer our … [click for more]

Brown Names by Marilyn Dumont

.        Memory is a cemetery .                      I’ve visited once or twice, white .                      ubiquitous and the set aside .         Everywhere underfoot… .      … [click for more]

Free Write Manifesto by Andrea Thompson

  .        Click on the album cover above to listen to a performance of “Free Write Manifesto.”   Copyright © Andrea Thompson. Originally featured in Soulorations (2018).   – Andrea Thompson is a writer, educator and spoken word artist who has been publishing and performing her work for over … [click for more]

Will it get us through the winter by Sue Sorensen

Will it get us through the winter, this new smaller love? Compact, slim. You can fold it, store it easily, though it slips through cracks, asserts itself when needed, then steps back,  arranging its limbs. Now less bulky, this unassuming love curls into corners, waiting quietly. No demands, no promises, no … [click for more]

Her Music by Jude Goodwin

I spend a portion of each day in the music of our child. She rushes home, drops coat and books on the table, before her snacks, before her laptop, she pulls the bench out, a loyal friend waiting waiting worn and wobbly for her return, she pulls the bench out … [click for more]

Left Coast Poetry Beat: DTES Writers’ Collective

Column by Bill Arnott Western Canada’s poetry scene teems with talent, from neophytes to award-laden laureates. Authors of every facet share spoken word, competitive slam, and rapier-sharp contemporary as writers and fans converge in person, print, online and on airwaves. This is not a list of writing/reading groups or events. It’s subjective, … [click for more]

On the Nature of Intelligence by Penn Kemp

Rewilding my senses to catch up with yours beyond thought and  logic into the realm of scents.  A musky note on the dark side of lunar new. Ears sharpened to tips. Eyes accustomed to shifting dusk.  No extrasensory perception yours, heightened to distinguish illusion from moving shapes, from fright.  A … [click for more]