I read Wendell Berry’s The Farm on a rainy afternoon in late July. It took me fifteen minutes, and […]
indeed, her keen sense of mortality heightens an anxiety-edged but ecstatic awareness that this is it
Bring me flowers and bees.
experimental poetry communicates changing times while remaining timeless
Mitochondrial Eve A plague of poppies: salmon, tomato, apricot. Some years I save the seeds, audible in upright […]
In Which, Being Book One of the Chronicles of Deasil Widdy by Louise Carson, Broken Rules Press (Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue, Québec), 2018, […]
No women here. No women at all.
Chronic Fatigue System Too tired to exercise (who gets mono in their 50s?), endorphins droop and symptoms of menopause […]
Canadian poetry The birds are quiet here. They do not shout or bang about the window openings. They are […]