Some things are inadequate; Trying to describe the way a passing train smells like a burnt out match Or how your girlfriend drives barefoot to feel the pedal under her crooked pinkie toe Or how the small of a stranger’s back peeks out from between his jeans and his t-shirt when he rides… Continue reading Words
At the end of the world, when the scattered people live, sparsely and quietly, what will you miss? A string of Christmas lights, trying by sheer force of will to illuminate them, while outside a boarded up window (glass is dear, so dear) ash falls like the snow of old. The grid is down, the lights… Continue reading At the end of the world
Here, in this concrete city with its stone angels, sisters to the asphalt, the gravel, the harsh metallic strangle of train tracks, she wanders. Up Broadview late at night, when the streetcar is temperamental, (not unusual) and refuses to continue its route down Gerrard. The city across the ravine is lit up like a poorly… Continue reading City dreams
When I was a child that had nightmares my mother tried everything. She captured a cricket from the creek, adjacent but kept in his bedside jar could not be coaxed to sing. So, released he told his people and the legs of all the crickets of the creek and field Became my nighttime song.
So you think you know the sound of trains? ha! They’re quieter than steel or fire.
Remember when you thought It was love That would move mountains & divide seas! & when you learned that it was sorrow Working behind the tides Your heart wept a monsoon?