#325 grandparenthood

the second time around

the stresses are in perspective

or ignored

time is shorter

long term is another lifetime away

cookies and money and gifts

outnumber lectures and lessons and learning

#324 unwrapped gift

long ignored strings ready to cry and yell and whisper for you

to take in your pain and over-enthusiasm and turn them into something sonic

if only for the moment

and the rest of the time, they sit unplayed and untouched

humming the beauty that will never be reached

the songs they could've played

as dust collects below them

#323 more on plot

a granite grave sits unvisited

not due to lack of love

but excess

and the guilt that accompanies

and the grave wonders what happened

and the living scourges daily

walking by corner-store flowers, meeting a hearse, reading obits

and the green grass grows where the mower blade is preserved

and rain collects from granite runoff

#322 in memory of a loving wife

the hum of the fridge

the dog scratch marks on the door

the smell of the bakery next door

all unnoticed until they're gone

the body must ignore

or suffer sensory overload

but now

now i wish i'd heard the fridge and smelled the bread

felt her morning peck at the cardoor

#321

a young man stares out from the photo, black-and-white

and my brain fights to accept this man is my grandfather

a restless stare, actively vacant

but the shape and the hollow cheeks hint of the grandfather yet to come

we move with time and time moves without us

time chugs over the tick of clocks

calendar is a word in a meaningless alphabetized book

#320 wasted

more glasses than any person should have sit on my table, dirty

and four light switches sit on in my sight

in my t-shirt, i stand and slide up the heat

#319 rock people

these rocks will tell you where you've been, where you're going, and who has gone before you

these rocks will tell you where to find fish and where to find cabin safety

ancient billboards

there is something mystical about it

even one built today

#318 emptying the sink

out back, under a weathered tarpaulin, is an abandoned sedan

some rust

once a pride

he sees this through his corner window

by his writing desk

pen in hand

he reaches down and his biceps curl the lower drawer open

the folder has weight, heft

tension and readiness battle within his skeleton

as the folder thuds into its workspace

the tarpaulin flaps open in the wind

reveals a promising decal

#317 may he rest in peace

a man dies on the international stage

and is you-tubed to homes and offices and cafeterias

for his family to avoid

maybe there were mistakes

mistakes and pressure are frequent bedmates

and there was pressure

but why watch

less than a decade ago we debated IF an extreme sport death would be advertised

now forever a part of the digital collective

millions of 50-some second views

millions of human minutes

human life spent on human death

#316 "It's not easy facing up..." (rolling stones)

thugs in black bunnyhugs

break HBC windows and we and our media call them anarchists

because protester and demonstrator are clean words since seattle

hide behind black handkerchiefs because they feel stronger

desecrate the windows of our society's gods

the gods we worship with modern plastic-card idols

and though they are motto-less,

if they did have a motto,

it would not be citius, altius, fortius

but slower, more down-to-earth, gentler

because they hate our society

they hide behind masks

because they are embarrassed about their respectable job and their engineering degree and their poli-sci degree and making their parents proud at the cost of their own souls

and feeling as fake and as manipulated as the news-shows that make anarchist a dirty word

they hide behind masks because to say these things they feel would hurt the parents they love

democracy is a lie

a joke

an insult to intelligence

it is a castle in the polluted sand

and they believe they are a drop of water in the flow phase of a powerful tide

they see what we are doing to ourselves and they feel helpless

all they can do for us is put on an anti-uniform uniform and break a window

they believe our grandparents were better than we are

they believe in hard work over immediate gratification

but without their kerchiefs and scarves, when the black costume is removed, they submit to temptation offered by hundreds of channels and take-out places and prescription pills

they believe our system is unfixable, must be destroyed

they break windows, as the catholic church burned books

thinking it's for our own good

they believe demonstrating and protesting are passé

respect the effort

but laugh at the ineffectiveness, the lack of logic

because if they don't laugh they'll cry

protest against a System that dictates the 5 W's of your protest?

in their minds, they are a concentration camp prisoner

spitting in the face of their captor, their friend's captor, their parent's captor, your captor

they are too angry to care what is right

angry knowing our society is wrong and wronged

they walked by one too many bums on the street and realized the bum was someone's kid

they've committed ideological suicide

preferring a question mark over our current System

a dirty S-word in their language

dirty words include:

Religion, Corporation, Government, Salary

they travel in 10 and 20 and 30

30 max

because they don't trust numbers

their generational subculture is only a slight twist

don't trust anything over 30

they are weak yes

but they are strong

David was armed with slingshot and they with hoodies and bricks

they find much-needed success in getting on the news, or getting a police reaction, or being called an Anarchist, with disdain

they are cowards

but they are brave

are you passionate enough about anything to risk jail, risk being cameraless with armed police?

they are our late-night jerry maguire ideas and ideals

made laughable by our boss: the alarm clock

in their acts of defiance, they find meaning, meaning we do not offer

did you ever sit in your car, sit and wait in your driveway, unable to face the monotony that is a 21st century north-american life?

they did. but they broke.

unveil a few black bunnyhugs...

90% white kids, twenty-somethings, upper-middle class, educated, quiet, intelligent, male

all-powerful kings in their parents' generation, lost in their own

but we will not end them by catching them

or arresting them

or beating them

arrests and billy-clubs will only be head-bashing whack-a-mole mallets

we must try understanding them

we

must change

my goal is not forgiveness but understanding

and at the risk of misunderstanding, i hope i am unforgiving in my goal of understanding

though i warn you

in small print and fast-speak

side effects of understanding may include forgiveness, compassion, solidarity, and other forms of humanity

beating them with violence is what they want

so they can say, in good conscience

see, we told you so

we cannot defeat them

for defeat over them

is a loss

we can only win with them

remember

the lines of police that represent and protect us

wear bigger masks

#315 when pepper precedes sodium

age surrounds me now

in the books i read

in the wrinkles of the bookmark i use

in the mirror

in the shaver i use

in the people i see

those still here, and those whose bodies lie in a box

age is everywhere in all shades

unnoticed

like green in a summer forest

and only the coloured flowers stand out to me now

the beer

the chicken wings

the jogs-called-runs

#314 consciousness collage

paranoid voices, whisper and scream

sharpies upon post-it notes

crosses above doorways, once common

now anachronistic

sharing cake behind a chair

a story that dies with time

like a zillion other moments

important in their own way

forgotten significance

an elastic strap for glasses

so uncool as to be cool

#313 april 13th

a 13-ball tattooed on his left forearm

a cue ball with a red stripe and two digits

i think greasy

but he remembers the lightness

his grandmother in her box

up the church steps

her glasses held together with masking tape

urkle gone wrong

i think trailer-trash

and she saves $50

toward her son's education fund

a step up out of the life she fell into

#312 on writing

a friend

too long too call

too good to forget

awkward?

a phone call away

at the bottom of a cotton bag

at the side of the closet

under rarely worn clothes

a waste?

just one moment's decision

#311 iRemember

not long ago, a post was something you drove into the ground, hoping for no rocks

a mailbox, something at the end of your street

a hard drive was the cabot trail, in a hailstorm

an address identified your home, a building with things called windows (objects made of glass)

memory, something that helped you learn your times tables

icons were Michael Jackson and Elvis

downloading, the embarrassing way of descending the ski-hill on your grade 5 class trip
cpu, a drink container for dyslexics

printing was the predecessor to cursive

and network was a question you'd ask about the spare boots in pond hockey
net work?

#310 smokin'

character

this is no box-chain establishment

this is anti-establishment, without the anger

beside the till is the inter-achronism

further, a killer jukebox

news clipping, impeached dog

but we drove by

thinking: sometime...

living-room atmosphere, and service

every second square inch of the walls a story

hand farm equipment lives in harmony with sport paraphernalia

buckles and pins and postcards abound

a bar, a city hall, a hang-out

simple

good

a lesson in what our full lives are missing

#309 obey all traffic signs

stop

post-it notes on the fridge

cell messages

and arguing at night because you "want to talk"

i yield

exhausted

earning invisible money that should put us into ultra-black by now

our house is a lie

i must've turned left when i should've made a right

on the road to my dreams

i played by society's silly rules

tried to Keep Right

merged, one-way

painted myself into a corner

dead end

why

afraid of paint on my sole

afraid of freedom on my soul

#308 February 7, 2010

resolutions forgotten

the F month is 1 week old

in one week more

we'll worship the imprisoned letter-writer, hallmark's bitches

one block on a calendar

when winter covers our memory, white-space

and spring is a mirage, soul-tease

can you remember 5 weeks back
what you promised yourself you'd do this year, again

#308b when?

motivation is a challenge in safe heated structures, catalogue quality houses

overstuffed with overstuffed leather and flat screen plasmas

overstuffed dreams and an unfullfilling reality

air conditioned comfort, conditioned responses

overweight pets mirroring owners

pre-fab homes and pre-fab lies
at every click of your remote controller

controlling you, not so remotely

we need a hero

a gandhi

a teresa who doesn't die in the regal paparazzi shadow

dennen sings of it

and franti

and others

but we need someone to take the bullshit by the horns

to act

not in the hollywood sense

but the human one

we need someone

i need someone

#307 the writing...

a boy, an old spirit

strikes a silent violin in the plant's shadow on my wall

no tears fall from his sad rorschach sillhouette

tears were obsolete for him ages ago

the plant is green and healthy and happy

attracts visitors

improves surroundings

adds life

but behind the cheer

the boy plays for no one

not for joy or fame or status

but because the world whispers to him

he ignores the world's shouts

"Be happy!"

and hears the world's whisper

#306 first shift alone

shallow

breaths

tense neck

tight back

busy hands

muscles

too-ready

jaw

set

a mountain in my head

mammoth potential for failure

in through the nose

out through the mouth

a mountain can't fit in your head

relax

smile

enjoy

#305 far end of the last horse barn (printed in "the Maynard")

spinning lights, screaming girls

cotton candy, midway mud

seasoned carnies vying for attention

exhibition barn

old men and strong whiskey

plaid shirts and worn flasks

an old world, new to my nostrils

rebelliousness permeates the air with the smell of animals

my throat burns but i resist coughing

old enough not to tell Mum

young enough to call her that

back to the main arena

find my father

sit beside him in silence

arms folded

a step closer to manhood

but holding my breath

#304 must be something in the keg

a youthfulness exists here

even the old are young

seniors and grown-ups, excitement

rivaling kids' on snow days

people smile as they pick up there mail

glee over new toys

old is not boring here

in fact, we don't call it old

we call it older

subconscious evasion of connotations

is it the mountain?

the snow?

the griz?

#303 inspired by the spirit bear

he looks good

but like his necktie

purpose is lost

out of time and place

a social chameleon

clicks his soul off at night

mistaking Absence for sleep

jumping from pm to am without Rest

everyone likes him

enjoys his smile

but he knows his purpose remains unfound

and purpose unfound is forgivable

but purpose unsearched

inexcusable

#302 "Breakin' my mind"

are there No Smoking signs on heaven's entrance doors

or signs saying the number of meters away you need to be

announcements about silencing cellphones

questions about who packed your luggage

speed limits and stop signs

Otis maximum capacity

No Loitering

No Pets (theological debate)

Shirts Required

Do This

Don't Do That

No this

No that

No, No, No

No?

then why here

on earth as it is in heaven

christians

christians by heredity

christian by convenience

for thine is the kingdom

imagine

All Are Welcome

Thanks For Your Manners And Honesty

You Are Great!

Everybody is Wonderful

You're Good Stuff

What's your sign?

#301

a whir of tape

and clicks

and muffled hollywood voices

a rectangle of light

a see of faceless people

frame by frame by frame

the whole town knows his name

and they knew who his mother was

but that's it

no one speaks insults

worse

no one speaks

the town is alive

with meetings and gossip and events

technology everywhere

a 4-year old on an iPhone

and his life slides past others

frame by frame by frame

#300 remote controlled

refrigerator post-it notes

modern communication

electronic mail

used to be a driveway mailbox that lit up

we sit and stare at a a tablet-size brainsucker

we talk on commercials

talk about fake characters

turn it off: discuss ideas

TVs get smarter and smarter

live playback, flatscreen, surround sound

they get smarter and smarter

as we stare and they drain

#299 an old-fashion rural love

post-it notes on bathroom mirror

and in brown paperbags

now ironed pants

now cover wrinkles

a quinquagenarian love

his arthritic hand steadies hers

the scissors have been by the sink for forty years

and nail-clippers top drawer bedside table

she doesn't know it, but in three weeks

she will choose his coffin

quality, plain

and in three more

their eldest will choose hers

elegant, modest

#298 first house, carried across the threshold

when did it start, which second?

was it the second session

the second Jäger

or the second month of my second summer

then the magic of summer ended

and the sleight of summer continued

but only for awhile

love was a verb in the Sound
straining
misunderstanding
hurting

with our thoughts and cold touches

differences and indifference exposed

self-righteousness my wrong

and then

love was a noun
concrete
easy

comfortable

i was her pillow

the spot she wanted at day's end

and she my climbing harness

and i learned what safe falling was

some memories are mine

white towels and favourite smiles

some belong to canon

back-steps and pacific islands

others combine

waterfalls and cabins

until here we are today

the clichéd next step

and enjoying the cliché

#297 on grandparents dying together

every card is still

all are face-down

but for two

leaning, supporting, holding

in pighouse

some turns defy gravity

some falls are inevitable

sometimes falls pre-climax

some cards are exciting, some boring

some short, some drawn out

but the last two, they fall together

each dependent on the other

for purpose and for support

together

#296 now and then

when did it start, which second?

was it the second session

the second Jagger

the second month of my second summer

now the seconds are spelled in years

halifax and parry sound

and sights and smells

touch losses and gains

together on our separate sides of the bed

we take our forks in the road each day

and finish in a spoon

and the cow doesn't run away with the utensil anymore

why?

because she's in the bog with the others

where the hell is angus

the truck is rolling down the hill

and the boy is new to his second decade

he hits the clutch

besuse he's not a farm boy, not really

except in his blood

and because he can't remember which of Dad's feet stop the the Buick

inside his skuld the rusted farm Ford

good for dog-drives and haying season

slams the rocks in the river...

but outside his skull

collie runs with

hops in

applies the brake

whistles

not a relieved whistle

just a whistle

a soft jig

this was before the questions of the age of the house

before his love's middle names

but after the separate beds

in the pighouse era

and donkey

donkey-donkey-donkey

#295

there is a satisfaction to it

figuring out things that don't make sense

how is that getting power when the breaker is off?

why isn't the engine running?

what's causing that bumping sound?

a frustration,

followed by a satisfaction

a correlation in size

troubleshoot try troubleshoot try

repeat

and the more problems you encounter

the more solutions you learn

if only relationships could be fixed with a power tool

#294 in the walls

like the hum of the fridge

noticed only in absence and in disrepair

her specialness

there somewhere in my mind

for sure

but words fail

like last night's poem unwritten

her smile

brighter than fluorescent lights

but warmer than a candle's

#293 egal Pines angel

she gets off the bus two stops and one word before me

at Regal Pines Trailer Park

egal Pines as the sign has said since I started on the bus

no one is mean to her and no one is her friend

no one else seems to think she's beautiful

we spoke once since september

she asked if i had a pencil

i apologized

knowing 3 were at the bottom of my pack

she impresses no one but me

by not trying to

repeat clothes, no face paint

no 'pretty smell'

just her

doodling and sketching forever

#292 moving

a dog-eared love letter

in a coma on my closet floor

since the last time i moved

seven years

surrounded by corrugated cardboard and packing tape

i find space on the bed and read

i smell her neck

a memory

she mentions the trip to Dugger's

our first night at the cabin

and the song

i reach the end

neatly fold

walk to the latest box

pause

Adrienne calls from down the hall

flick the lined letter into a blue bag of paper

keep walking

leaving it behind

keep walking

#291 back to bed

a sound wakes me

if i weren't in canada

i'd guess a wounded elephant

but that the sound is less natural

i climb to my feet

lean forward against the second-story window

metal grinds by as sparks fly off asphalt

of course,

the plow

#290 decisions

improving humanity, is not one colossal decision

nor is it a hundred insignificant decisions

but always one decision, usually small

a kind word

staying up late to help a friend

turning the tv off to cuddle

speaking loudly, the words your little voice whispers

not being able to do something

is never an excuse for not doing it

too many regular people have struggled

against fact against doom against sense against the impossible

too many examples exist

the obvious and the famous

but also the unsung and personal

people we pray to for help

not on-your-knees-with-rosary prayer

but the invisible approval we seek
the face we see with our eyes closed

when decisions matter

#289 2 plates, 1 picture

two sticky matching plates sit on the table

a storm of boxes fills the surround ing room

the fork and knife lay in a 69 positiion on the left plate

the right one its mirror

masking tape and sharpie are handy

amidst the chaos

desert is eaten and music is played and dishes are packed

3 more mights to go

in the bed one story above

#288 reunion exposure

i align the moment in the view-finder

trot over to the empty space

warn them of the double flash

smile, smile, smile

and the digital sound and the disco flash

capture the faux moment in "virtual memory"

i'll see this picture several times over the next few years

and it will shape my memory of the event

all six smiles cover up my awkward feelings

the artificial light

the seleceted background

will convince me the day was sunny

and fun and happy

#287 inhaling

papers and bags

crown royal and a dead stomach

insert one piano key, deep

repeat

bedside table

cubby hole

and to his left of his tv chair

basement apartment

the smoke clouds

his visions and his adequacies

inhale and hold

take it all in

exhale and breathe

but never let it all out

#286 fix you

beneath the wrinkles

the white

the grouchiness

the high pants

and the low patience

beneath it all

is a baby

a boy

a teen

a confused adult

a son

a father

a neighbour

a lover

and a griever

#285 sunset terrace

the clock unwinds

like a child's tire-chain

your impeccable fashion

now polished wood

is your comfortable do-drop-in nature

of use at your new address

are the others there

the plainclothes people

keep the tea on mary

keep the tea on

#284 sliding

sometimes a kind word is the one that breaks us

i sit on a depressed couch

stare at the neighbour's roof

where snow sits 30 inches deep

has sat for so long

a roof covered in white darkness

but today, i look through the drip-drip from our eavestrough

spring's sun has arrived

water drip-drips in a symphony around the block

but a sickening scrape and a thud

clears the roof

the sun slides behind a grey cloud that wasn't there a minute ago

#283 roadmarkers

sufficiently different

to surprise people

especially family and friends

sufficiently different

to cling to an onlooker's memory

to become a 'this one time...' legend

sufficiently different

to instigate the question Why

sufficiently different

2/3 shy of crazy

1/3 beyond quirky

#282 viewfinder

i ignore most of the world

in a way at least

two square inches, all i see

and i think and i wait and i plan

to capture a world in two square inches

#281 hands of time

i look at my hands

they've changed

softer and older

when did i last look?

really look.

their maps of lines

is foreign to me.

i need to stop

to pause and look

more often

days disappear like daylight

#280 vedder

if i left

just left

what would happen

i'd leave an inconvenient address

but what would happen

really

i'm not talking about being missed by friends

more about society

would they notice

would i miss it

#279 oceans, mountains, and milk cartons

i drove, east to west

searching for home, inside myself

found an ocean in the mountains

upside-down, inside-out

reflecting my feelings of home

for others, everything's easy, clear, black-and-white

home is where the milk carton stays the same

#278 punching out

a ferris wheel revolving for repair, deserted exhibition field

instead of a tree, reaching for sun

punch-in, punch-out

punch-in, punch-out

moving like a June classroom clock

instead of a September kindergartener

punch-in, punch-out

punch-in, punch-out

energetic as a white Christian

instead of a black Baptist

punch-in, punch-out

punch-in, punch-out

caring like an underpaid burger-flipper

instead of a commission car salesman

punch-in, punch-out

punch-in, punch-out

#277 thinkings and sayings

whoever said 'best thing since sliced bread'

forgets how fresh and great unsliced bread is

now bleached to look futuristically white

only, the future is here

so the white looks normal

whoever said 'what goes around comes around'

never saw a kid die

innocent and unknowing

never saw that cheaters do prosper

and bullies do get what they want

#276 algonquin thoughts

where real thinking is done

each dip, my paddle creates a mini water tornado

just below the surface of the lake

dip-gurgle-swirl

dip-gurgle-swirl

answers come and decisions occur

but then tomorrow arrives

a return to the world

and what was simple and good

turns complicated and treacherous

#275 flicker to sleep

nocturnal street-lights flicker to sleep

the world commutes to work

dogs camp on couches under bay windows

and i shake my head head in disgust

and join the machine

#274 please locate your nearest emergency exit

mind and heart heavier, i board the plane

my luggage also, larger upon return

window seat

i stare

feeling tired and awake

and heavy

next trip will be for bad news

the headrest becomes a magnet for my head

as the engine roars muffled excitement

i slide the window panel down

shut

only excited kids make noise now

and in about 2 hours and 7 minutes

there will be the clatter of opening seatbelts

as we each depart to our own stories

mine, an early chapter

#273 grand people

an argument

or the closest thing they have

over too much salt

he in his chair

by the washing machine

hands clasped

they are good

and they are simple

and they are gone

but they are not

#272 Too Late, December

weight of remote control in my hand

i watch the news

missing kids, murder, somalia

OFF

focus on the living room

close my eyes and my self to World's problems

i tidy the glass coffee table

straighten furniture

water the tree's red and green bowl

and stand back

i squint at the mediocre tree

glow and twinkle, glow and twinkle

sometimes, things look better

with eyes half shut

#271 the tea is on

the kitchen shines

my eyes adjust from the dark outdoors

my shoulders relax for the first time in months

I'm smiled at

hugged

welcomed

sitting at the kitchen table as the teapot grows warm
this smell of homecooking would make my tail wag if i had one

i am at home in someone else's house

i forget the darkness outdoors

exercise the muscles involved

in smiling

in loving

in living

#270 between kids and kids' kids

this year, their Christmas tree is perfect

not like before

now it is one of the best on the lot
symmetrically decorated, bulbs equidistant, rope garland hung perfectly

not like before

when the kids decorated it

a sparse tree

with reused tinsel thrown at every spot

even the gifts below

now, looking professionally wrapped

then, more tape than wrapping-paper

the wrapping-paper's tube

is slotted into the recycle bin

instead of being a sword and a light sabre and an alien arm

until the New Year

when it broke

or broke mum's patience

#269

destiny is a suggestion

ignored by you

your kind

you should be with me and you should be happy

a hometown girl

high-school sweetheart

when you left

you forgot to come back

and realize how good you had it

instead

i see your face beside her perfect one

usually black sunglasses on both

Friday, sobey's magazine rack

and i run back

for the ben&jerry's i resisted in aisle 4

#268 december

hands and knees

glass in hand

tickled by branches above

i maneuver into a downward dog

empty the cup into the red pot

supported by green legs

i crawl out

stand up

smelling like Christmas tree

#267 dougald's lane

it begins with a shelter

shelter

a covered lane

trees from east and west meet overhead

slight winding, meandering

but with purpose

and shelter

ever shelter

halfway

birch and spruce and fir decorate your view

end in sight

white house on the hill green trim

shelter

#266 invisible horizons and tired smiles

four boots. two big, two small

gaze over the ocean

to an invisible horizon they trust is there

where the water blurs the skyline.

four laces undone after hills and puddles and miles of trail

and now, behind the camera's eye

the boots' owners

spoon their tired

smiles

to sleep

#265 snowfall

ovenight an acoustic blanket was laid

absorbing all sound and echo

and the cars are white lawn nymphs

unmorphed with magic wands by work-goers

#264 3 chords (capo4 A,C,Dm)

quiet evening

southeastern BC

snowflakes fall

in their silent shadows

so do we (lord)

so do we

streetlight globe

catches it all

unlike me

unlike me

white white ground

catching all sound

when will we

when will we

chimneys exhale

easy and free

never me

never me

door stays shut

drapes peak open

watch with me

watch with me

night revolves

darkness dissolves

awake 'til 3
awake 'til 3

still snowflakes fall

in their silent shadows

snowflakes fall

in their silent shadows

#263 exit us

gold trim

high ceilings

priceless paintings and artefacts

beautiful

repulsive

after communion we walk

past our pew

exit man's church

enter god's

#262 turnip and pork chops (*accepted in "message in a bottle)

saturday evening, after suppertime but before supper

using every minute of light

Dad mans the splitter, i collect and pile wood

fill my arms each load

fuller than full if Dad's watching

we work for hours

every time he stops to help me catch up

a failure in my mind

i'm too young to prove i'm a man

old enough to prove i'll make a good one

the piling and stacking and walking

fight november 28th's cold air

Dad stops, stretches his back

looks at me

at the pile

at the splitter

flicks a small switch to OFF, and the machine coughs itself silent

we enter the house

where mum saved a hot supper

worthy of working men

real men

and men-to-be

a meal made all the better by a large helping of hunger

#261 crumbs

chocolate cake behind the big comfy chair

secret secrets

knees curled to chin

whispers whispered

is the chair still there

memories remembered

#260 28th of the month

boxes on the couch

box-springs on end

the webby gauze exposed

shoes worn everywhere

nowhere is sacred

in two days all will be gone

all will be empty

must be

i wish we started earlier

#259 red canoes

the pines lean the direction the wind whispers

east

home

georgian bay

red canoes and homesick pines

and now

here i am

west

#258 38 below from above

the chimney's smoke

pauses

hesitant

the cars are all attached by orange lines

to walls of houses

the streets are empty

except for the orange-flashers painting roads dark

the few people who enter the evening

walk fast

their heads various colours

#257 for keeps

haircuts in the garden

keep the deer out

Vessey's envelope packs at the end of each row

keeps the vegetables clear

cookies in the tin

keeps the boys happy

butter on the homemade buns

keeps a custom shine

water and a swish

keeps everything lasting until grocery day

a hand on the holy-crap bar

keeps her sane while they learn to drive

these things and many others

keep me happy

#256 after supper

an empty tin can

crumbs rattle

orange and black

second shelf from the top

homecooking- homesick

wax paper swishes

dishes done again

and again

and again

washed

dried

put away

what did we do all day?

what was the entertainment

we didn't have a laptop each

we had none

no internet

no iPhone to text

no hundred channels of emptiness

#255 all alone

minus 29 is positively cold

today is three hours old

my fireplace has stayed awake with me

unable to sleep

outside, smoke rises in straight lines

from the roofs of the little town

am i the only one awake?

is someone else too occupied with

the phone bill and the future?

is anyone else keeping their fireplace company?

or

are we all

alone?

#254 more is less

more passwords than morals

more plastic in wallets than friends in life

more debt than happiness

more contact info than contact
more attention for SIN than for sin
more informed and more apathetic
more on credit and less to our credit
more quantity than quality
more lessons all around, but no lessons learned
give me less

#253 late december evening

an undecorated christmas tree

two lovers and their laptops

three mismatched couches

the dog on her mat

sighs

and i agree

we hear the wind's path

meeting the bay window

snow whipping and jumping

a good night to be inside

#252 lab retriever

i used to own my couch

now i get space for one buttock

if i'm lucky

what happened?

when?

how?

#251 i love beer

the sound-

twisting the metal cap off

relaxes me like a massage

the taste-

that first swig

comforts me like a handwritten letter

the feeling-

a sweating bottle in hand

cools my hand and mind like a snowball down my back

#250 juggling and everything else

at first i fumble

and everything tumbles to the floor

slowly, impercepibly

i gain control

soon

it's four at a time, behind the back and under the legs

#249 drowning answers

business and business

numb my mind

numb my soul

a gin and tonic

hide the emptiness

my life

spend

drink gossip and dress nice

stay busy

don't question validity or authenticity

because you know the answer

#248 seduction

she draws me in

my laptop dance

her glow

temptress

offers nothing in everything's fashion

late night appeal

#247 here's to anxiety

the beer brings temporary relaxation

like junk food

and to-do lists

the ones where you star with things already done

imagined reward of a check-mark

the second is an error in judgement that leads to a seventh

#246 wwjs?

gold trim everything

expensive art everywhere, even the ceiling

materials and craftsmanship

second to few

and the man up front

the one in the expensive cape

preaches a sermon on humility and poverty

#245 Sunday

bibles with stiff bindings

sitting in a pew 3/4 to the back

quiet in the vestry

and don't

drop

the bread.

oddly,

the old-schoolers

are the only ones who stick their tongues out at priests.

sing a hymn to worship Him

who has abused so much

pain and war

love and consoling

suffering

suffering.

#244 fresh snow

the etch-a-sketch was inverted and shaken

no marks, all fresh

what did this valley look like before people and our buildings and our roads?

to look at one flake is to look at a world

and to look at a pile or a drift is to see another

tomorrow by 10am

the drawings will be drawn

but still there will be blank space

and still there will be kids gazing out the window behind the teacher's back

waiting for the 10:30 bell

wishing for gravity to let the minute hand fall to the 6

#243 one snowflake

darts left, fakes left

hovers

stops to ponder

swoops

floats

twirls

wonders

helicopters and spirals

down

always down

a battle of resistance and submission

not knowing that there is no end but the ground

like the trillion others

#242 return policy

all my thoughts turned to cheap confetti

my dreams transformed to plastic

my ambition is a name brand

my goals morphed into rotten carrots

how did i get here?

i've got the girl

the house

the job

happiness is the plastic in my wallet

and it fills its own void

in a numb and static cycle

how did i get here?

a phone call brings me to dirt

nothing my wallet can do

or my clothes or my status

i am an empty person in my empty world

where do i go?

#241 somewhere a clock...

time goes on forever

but hers is short

says the mouth above the tie and stethoscope's neck

time is short

what does that mean

as kids everything good takes a long time to come and passes so fast

her time is short

no

you can't say that

passing time

long time

time is short

killing time

wasting time

my time

our time

her time

#240 hubs breaking

maternal

social

first the potato peeler

now the after-school

cold decisions to be made

tickets unboughten

soft december snow sits

on shiny black headstone

a deafening introverted eulogy

chocolate cake behind the chair

they smile, polite

a weak story

but i will tell it

again

and again

and again

because that is what i can do

that is all i can offer

#239

pensandpaper and billsandcords

fill my desk, erode my contentment.

top up my anxiety, and empty my soul

clutter and stuff the recurring theme

interior and exterior.

clutter and stuff and stuff and clutter and chaos

i need

i need...

empty

space

#238 bullyee

they laugh

and so i smile

they poke

i smile

they trip and punch

i smile

i smile

i smile

do they know

do they care

they tease

i smile

i go home

i feel

i cry

#237 a fresh sheet

flapped and spread on us overnight

no one's awake yet

no wrinkles

no marks

the window sill

the lawn

the hedge

all covered

what is now a big white lump

was once the driveway's '93 toyota

that winter-spirit

was yesterday a 10 foot spruce tree

and that fluffed pillow in its ironed case

i'm sure was once a hottub

what was that noise?

i think they're getting up

#236 what did it look like before?

a grid of rectangles clutters the valley

and the slope of the bowl

has been knifed in places

top to bottom

neat, clean

dots slide on the spaces between rectangles

the bigger the space, the faster the dot

is this the where clouds are made?

boxes and dots puff out nascent clouds

that rise and join their ancestors

the center of the valley

a bullseye for boxes

the perimeter, more a scatter-shot of boxes

#235 darn needles

just let me finish this line says my girlfriend

surrounded by well-used needles

i DO NOT have a problem

those words travel miles, her lips to my ears

i go to bed

she stays downstairs

always just one more line

i complain about her addiction

but i benefit too

this year

she's knitting me socks

#234 stress and swimming

i can't eliminate the smell of chlorine

can't omit the stress

a shower only strengthens it

thinking about it enlarges it

#233 minimist

screw...

punctuation,

the articles

boringly unnecessary adverbs and adjectives

and

conjunctions

screw

punctuation

articles

adverbs

adjectives

conjunctions

#232 start with the kitchen sink

floors and my mind are clear

thoughts and belongings have found their place

stains and the nightmares rubbed out

coats all hung and priorities straight

dog hair and depression are memories

plants are watered and souls nourished

ready for guests and laughter

for sharing

for contentment of soul

#231 her

one window

that's it

the rest is black and grime and cold

that is my world

my window to the sky

shares the weather

shares hope and life

one window

that's it

but that's all i need

with my window

i can feel sorry for my prosecutors

my meals gourmet

my dreams real vacation

one foot tall, two feet wide

my view of life

my forehead tips back

passes my chin

and i live

#230 playing with others

a hand drum

a guitar

anyone have a capo?

a mouth harp appears from a back-pocket

and a girl starts to sing

a baritone moans behind her

accentuates the beauty, the femininity, of her voice

eyes close and bodies sway

#229 swimming

the black line hypnotises me

and the lengths lose theirselves

10?

12?

14?

the rhythm is overpowered only by the clean stench of chlorine

ever present

doubles in a shower

#228 inside the box

owns your living room

owns that thing inside your skull

hypnotizes, mesmorizes, euthanizes

jumping flipping surfing

our only channels for exercise

no time for friends and family

cleaning or accounting

running or swimming

22 minute bedtime stories for free

at a cost

#227 words fall

diary pages fall

as if in a sno-globe

floating fluttering

in a pseudo-perfect world

hit the ground

wait to be shaken upside-down

your words and your soul's secrets

made public without permission

and you're questioned about the life questions

you penned as statements