#370 stemming problems

flowers on a table falsify the feeling

and cheer acts like a main-street false-front.

the difference between changing and hiding

subtle but profound.

flowers won't undo stress

or tension or hurtful words.

not even a big colourful easter bouquet.

#369 living room and life

a living room over full of furniture and scattered dishes

a to-do list that is lapping me

a fridge-front full of magnets lists and appointment cards

i stare at it all

rise

to throw out a a chair

#368 oh march

the seasons battle

winter refuses hibernation

and spring scrambles to the top

a child's game, king-of-the-castle

dirty roads

patches of green and yellow and brown and white

#367 fort walls and fridge-tops

when couch cushions are fort walls

and the pots cupboard is a secret planet

the fridge-top a mystery

and father's billfold sacred

his shaving, beyond entertainment, a reverent idol
when does that time end

#366 sermon

they file in each week

sunday best

and leave with stiff weekly laughs and smiles

go home and fight and argue and ignore for seven days

then return

to leave their guilt under the high-ceiling

for a bigger guiltier expert to deal with

#365 lego

sitting on the living room floor

he builds homes and skyscrapers and stores

entire cities

filled with nice, happy people

people who smile and say "How are you taoday?"

and wait for a response

sitting behind his adult desk

he deals with politics and policies and permits

beauracracy

obstacle-setters, and profit-skimmers

people who say whatever fits the moment

and require a ® every time you write the word

#364 looking up from a window in a valley

oceans call, but mountains insist

and i am drawn, but not stuck

in this mountain valley, i am a vireo's egg in its nest

while the slow metronomic beat of the ocean

forever a mental recording, plays at will

like the sound of rocks receding into water between waves

oceans and mountains

safety and risk

conflict and balance

#363 wet luggage

i laughed the day they pulled her body from the flattened truck

and before the laugh turned to tears

guilt filled me from hair follicle to dark toenail

her body was sitting somewhere to be prepared for viewing

and i was laughing

rushing, hitchhiking to see her corpse

my luggage in the bed of a new pick-up

and the owner stopped to auto-wash his pride and joy

my brain was off and when it turned on

oh sh*t

i jump out to rescue my luggage

that's when the laughter overtook me

the soaking camouflaged my tears

i re-entered the truck

and my ride laughed

and so i laughed

and so guilt took up residence in my body

for years

now i see there is laughter in slaughter

there must be

Happiness fights everyday in this world

formidable opponents

Guilt, Jealousy, Overambition

and Laughter helps her

by hiding in slaughter

#362 "new inheritors"

we failed

our biggest contribution was technology

faster and smaller

but spiritual

we ran backwards

and dropped you in a void, a vacuum

this was not our intention

we've performed miracles

travel the globe in hours

send waves of information even faster

built answers to everything at the touch of a button

but miracle is an old word now

like cholera or modem or family-table

and our old silly gods

replaced by Google and Laptop and cell phone

and if you don't worship them

you're considered old-fashion, out-of-date, silly

i think we've done enough with Technology

i hope you move on to bigger and better

#361 me vs. morning me

i sit, breathe

breakfast at a table free of clutter

first time in years

and i swear

this starts a new habit

(as i've sworn in the past)

the alarm is a catastrophe, shattering my sleeping world

hurled into the world of the wake

responsibilities and deadlines and duties

i find the snooze button

and swim toward the warm world of sleep

i'll get up early tomorrow

#360 surroundings

sunlight plays still on the walls that contain me

boring browns and oppressive objects occupy the room and the soul

everywhere i look i see undone to-do list items

i was excited about life and i will be again someday

but not today

not today

#359 my yellow runners

blood flows through, worries flow out

total miles grow bigger, personal problems grow smaller

laps around street blocks, help overcome mental blocks

i untie the laces

feeling unsuffocated

return to phone and forms and files

i smile

i breathe...

ready

#358 overcast

unwelcome rains change plans

outdoors to in, walking to driving

but people need rain

not just to water food

but there is something about a rain

nourishing souls after drought

rolling from waterproof bodies

into thirsty ground

leaving something behind beyond dampness and cold

taking with it

negative fixations and a miasma of memory

Earth turns the stagnant into something digestible

#357 outside the ktunaxa casino

spirits lie outside the grave picket fence

unadmitted for perceived sin

forced to the outside

by those that brought them to it

#356 file 63 of 472

a day wasted

penance for earlier procrastination

today, cleaning and organizing seem full of fun and temptation

my mind wanders from the task at hand to the dust-bunnies under the bed down the hall

i plod, i type, i gripe and complain

and i swear never again

#355 minor thoughts

today's song fills its listener with minor chords and wrist-slittingly introspective lyrics

i don't know how the song will end or if there's another on my playlist

but the guitar's sad strings are attached to more than my vocal chords

i don't know how long i can be this alive, this aware

it hurts

soon i'll follow society

turn up the tv or turn on the computer

mute my soul and click my mind OFF

we've overslept, achieved nothing

and what's worst, types the poet from his self-righteous laptop

what's worst

we are content

#354 take two

i sit on the stairs

undisturbed

for two minutes

an unnoticed observer

absorbing voices and footsteps and silences

adult feeling like a child in a cupboard

i need these moments

to gain energy

before rejoining the action of the house

adding my voice and my footsteps

for footsteps and voices will pass unnoticed

when I refill my role

#353 watching the oven door

rickety ladders and i climb apple trees

ladders greyed by wind and rain and time
tiptoeing from an upper rung

i roll the stem into my thumb

separating apple from tree

adding to my sobey's bag

i walk up the hill

the porch enters me into the kitchen

mum exclaims at my loot

locates her paring knife and two big bowls

adds salt and water for the pie parts

the empty one for jelly ingredients

an hour later

i perform my other part of pie-making

choo-choo fork tracks

allowing heat to escape in the oven

then she spits on them with butter

an old family trick

deep-dish pies enter the oven

and i smile

old enough to enter the woods alone

young enough to stare through a translucent door at an oven light

wishing time would bring me fresh pie just a bit faster

#352 "I hope you're not lonely"

there is a place

a place on the mountain

and in the centre, is a cabin

unknown by society

used by fortunate hunters

stay here says the cabin

there is rot and decay and disrepair

and a familiar, warm, reverent sense of home

and i'm tempted

live in the moment

earn my next meal by hand

use the night air as a duvet over my sleeping bag

leave paleness and society's brain-chatter in the valley below

but i keep moving

#351 march 14th

a translucent sheet covers all

above, a blue ceiling

blue blue

and the sun warm on the head

melts the sheet for the day

today, tv is not allowed

indoors is forbidden

walk, bike, run

play

#350 paint by numbers

the room sat empty

then primer attacked nostrils

new colour, new hue, new light

brushes rollers and dropsheets veil for now...

barking canine duo?

atomic #79 around the proximal phalange of a fourth digit?

3am feedings too?

walls and spirits collect and reflect sunshine

the colours fit

not puritan, as intended

but just right

just right

#349 always fresh

the two couples in the corner

four cold paper cups

having a one-of-a-kind conversation

again

this time its horses and technology

"ol John Weysmith, he knew his horses."

"yuh."

a pause, formerly filled by drags, before modern legislation

"reminds me of that there donkey. on the youtube. killed the," leans to other guy, "fuckin' cougar. a donkey!"

two foamer hats, angled high, and lots of plaid

and wrinles and make-up

sitting together in a true canadian postcard moment

#348 beyond face value

we save it

waste it

kill it

watch it pass by

savour it

maximize it

live it

we pass it by

it's on our side and against us

it's ahead of us and behind us

more than tics or tocs on clocks

more than breaths in a life

it's time:

grab it by the scrotum and make the most of it

#347 focus

digital ones make old-fashion clicks

snapping the present

to adjust the future and change the past and its memories

zoom, airbrush, modify light

make the truth what you want

a lie

#346 do the due

what motivates like a deadline?

we say we hate them

but do we really?

self-imposed deadlines

kudos to people who can do them

for me that's like decorative chocolate

deadlines don't make me do my best

but they make me do

#345 take two twice a day

Monday, he moved to a condo

paid for his 1st groceries and rent:

confident and going on 23

Today, he strips in a chapel

wearing a 2nd-hand iPod and a smile:

paranoid and gone off meds

#344 THE END

i believed you

but you added

Honestly. and i saw unfaithful

sheets heard polygamouswhispers smelled deceitful pheromones

#343 two lovers at an old kitchen table

two bodies roll and push and pull and fall exhausted

fast-forward 60 years

they sit in familiar silence

one thinks about the last siege of grandchildren, smiling

the other thinks of that night

and how good life is

and how simple

#342 respecting age

inside wrinkles, grey hairs and stooped backs live children and stories and lessons we used to respect before youth formed a dictatorship

#341 home alone

no voices, no laughter

no hum of the heater, or draft from opening doors

no feet on the stairs, or bums on the couch

no singing, no guitar

like a skier on a triggered slab of snow in an avalanche

i know this moment of peace will end

and below is tumultuous darkness

and i hope they find me

#340 unfollowing an ugly choice

defy your spirit

broken glass and gauze

defile and define your self

smoke and drown ignore the compass

redefine your self

whispers and blue skies

re-find your spirit

wispy clouds and spectrums in the sky

#339 what's in a name

"Can we play a round-robin," asked Dan

but Robin protested to standing alone at center

Mohammed is the most popular name on Earth,

let's take a break, how 'bout a little Less-hommed

I usually refuse to read this at open mic's

and on behalf of all shy Mikes

#338 deadlines

with barn-size plans and a free clock

no commitments and no demands

i prepare to start

but first i'll take a rest

and then it's bedtime

and i say i needed a rest,

i'll start tomorrow

and then i sleep in

and putter and eat and relax

and before i know

bedtime's here again

then i sleep in again

by now, i'm down about how the weekend treated me

i mope

and then, i do all the necessaries

and go back to bed

and as my weekend finishes i think,

i'll get up extra early tomorrow

#337 the old place

the sound of the train calls to the empty house and its dust-filled stories

where once a table was the hub, now its creaks bash the silence

the stairs that once carried little ones and big ones to breakfasts and bathrooms and more

now sag and droop from loneliness

the swingset stands, rust creeping up its legs, past the high grass that chokes its memories of laughter and insignificant tears

#336 the everyday

the hum of the the highway

melts into the soundtrack of my everyday

along with fridge's hum

and the inhale and exhale of my circulatory system

and her

the voice, the actions, the presence

the love

#335 corduroy duvet

there is a bed

a simple bed

where i end each day

interlocking with my familiar seraph like the tongue-and-groove beneath

and the stress and the peeves and the annoyances and the undone to-do list

dissolve

into my pillow

where they morph into sleep's mind-stories

interrupted only breaths at a time

long enough to see who's beside me and to smile at no one

and to drift back

#334 webster's questions of after life

what is a dead human body?

a manikin with an expiry date?

a soul's gate to heaven?

if the human body is special

why does it go cold and stiff and foetid

like rats and roadkill?

why do we sanctify with ceremony?

to ward our mortal fear?

do you really think we can feel a rose?

or hear a mower?

do you really think these gestures

practical and romantic, irrespectively

are for the dead?

someday we'll lift thoughts from the brains of the dead

like recovering lost data from a laptop

there is but one thing that follows life:

death

and the Liffey River if you believe i the same book i do

#333 the heart is an organ

wal-mart hallmark aisle

february 15th, half price

for my never-to-be, valentine

grocery store bin by the check-out

discounted hugs and kisses

never-to-be smile, my valentine

best value

Florence the Florist dumpster

and in my journal a note for a card

trademark never-to-be, valentine

she sat two seats in front of me in grade 7

and i don't know who sat between

i read deep into her cut-out valentine that said bee mine

never-to-be, valentine

i make love to you

under my covers alone

never never-to-be, valentine

#332 the life of memories

Herbie was lost in the garden on the hill, east-facing

back when the top of the fridge was a world away

lost in the same place as sookie blanket and brother's toy-bike

the garden of dougall and mary-jack and other characters of my mind

silly stories grow meaning in life

the bumps behind uncle's barn become legend

ordinary-upheavals turn fable-tombs

and the salience of chocolate cake and rocking chairs multiply like multiple malinoma

memories grow and shrink and flip and somersault into new lives

#331 clutter on a saturday morning

rain drops drip drop randomly

through an absent eavestrough

and straight-line past the window

out of my sight and mind

making room for followers.

between the window and me

undone unmatching dishes

lie heavy in overcast light

the ugliness of the floor

once a peeve, goes unnoticed

#330 the land of hope for all those who toil

a country barely older than the world's oldest person

younger than some of its trees

a nation and a people shaped by geography

prairies and mountains and lakes and oceans

small town manners

seeking concrete identity in a world of liquid change

donuts and pucks and maple leaves and beer

french and english and indigenous and more

many ancestors arrived by boat

seeking adventure, seeking identity

on a map the lines are so clear

that as an adult i still expect to see a black sharpie line on the road

as in my head i say "goodbye alberta, hello BC"

and the north remains a mystery, a fruit of ignorance

#329 THE END

the first two weeks of our relationship

like a crappy movie's preview

was promising

but now i'm considering walking out of the theatre

except i've committed so much time

and i still have some popcorn

i figure

maybe it'll get better

#328 of lost laundry and love

i lost a shirt once

my favourite

years later i found it in a forgotten bag at a friend's house

but the shirt was different, something was wrong

the shirt was the same but now the wrinkles and holes and faded marks

once loved or unnoticed

grew ugly

how much time apart is too much?

how many clock-rotations to defeat love?

in the same bag is a picture of Steph and me, both in pairs of my pajamas

we were in love once

she the sky over the land of my life

and nights brought beautiful bedsheet horizons

and now, now the present stains the past

there is no spot for her in my wardrobe

love and time, once a designer's dream, now clash

#327 a use for sweet lemons

i would rather win from an argument

than to win an argument

if i come out knowing exactly what i knew going in

what did i win but one argument

if i lose an argument

i learn something

i win knowledge

can i win an argument and win from it?

i think so

can i lose an argument and win nothing from it?

i say yes

#326 dismay

pfb and her old lady tea

pj bottoms and kkk top

crossword in hand

she wants a 6-letter word for disappoint

despite her verbosity, she is at a loss for the word

she was depressed once

years ago

exams and stress

threatened to slit her wrists

that's when her mother intervened

okay, just do it outside dear

#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