Sunday, April 29, 2007

And the big three pained window...

the cabs going by
album by Billy Bragg
but done by Natalie Merchant and Wilco.

forget that full-stop
and that error.

just give up...

the three stained glass windows.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Even in the city...

you can feel the stillness

the pine needle expanding
over concrete
like it was mice

drawing me in to investigate
and see Venus
while day broke
on Rennies Mill Road


my last few days

leaving my crows for barren pastures

looking to look in a new place

learned some new last names

leaving in wanderlust

so much stone and not water

so much silence and not trust

or a new day rises

as it must



sing a song of a feast of crows
sing a song of dust
if you must




Wednesday, April 25, 2007

How to Catch a Star

don't bother

like the song you always loved because it reminded you of somebody
the smell of citrus
the tangerine
the cross-section of a human
bound up
in bungee chord
like the rhyme
I struggle not to write

how to catch a star

Tuesday, April 24, 2007


The best was yet to come.

Remember satsuma and tangerine.

Cellar door.

All the time I still think, what would I do if I didn't have you?

I have a cash register full of water and my treasure spills out the sides.

A bright light.

Something beautiful.



Way over yonder in the minor key.

Ain't nobody that can sing like me.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

funeral today for Sargent Ronald Lucas
why are Canadian soldiers in Afghanistan?

After "That the Night Come"

Do you really want to know why?
All the killing and mayhem and violence,
the walking death of life made hell
as the phosporous settles on the scene--
confetti at a wedding of light and dark--
the snow faintly falling through the universe.
Because the cannon ball bundles time away
that the night come.

That the Night Come -- W.B. Yeats

She lived in storm and strife,
Her soul had such desire
For what proud death may bring
That it could not endure
The common good of life,
But lived as 'twere a king
That packed his marriage day
With banneret and pennon,
Trumpet and kettledrumb,
And the outrageous cannon,
To bundle time away
That the night come.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Untitled... again ...but meaner this time

exercise your vice.

let it out to play.

think of the worst word
someone could put in a bottle
of wiskey and shake up
the spout
into your face
while you smirked

analise your vice.

ask it a question.

are you one vice or are you many?

one and many at the same time,
made up of your who you are
and who you do not wish you were,
grown over time to pressure.

offer it a drink.

Thursday, April 5, 2007

Two edits

In the end everyone's prayers are answered,
just not in the order recieved;

we all reach and then fall.
That's what it is to believe

beyond reason or chance
in the power of life to redeem,

to know that names and words
like dreams ware away.


I spoke with Van Gogh
under the cyprus --
jagged pallet punctuated pastel here,
tawny earth tone here,
subtle water to arid land,
where once was a crisp canvas.
He etched a pyre atop a paragon.
There is a phoenix in all of us, he said,
seething, mixed with our ashes