Monthly Archives: January 2015

(associative shape and light of MacDonald Hotel patio lamp and moon) Association in relation to memory, thinking, and connection. Reflected in what we do, experience, communicate, think about, and express. How that works as organic human process as a mode … Continue reading →

The recent coyote-killing-for-cash contest. The government’s renewal of wolf extinction plans. Shooting them from helicopters. Poisoning dead grizzlies shot to lure wolves. Three times this has been done in the name of saving woodland caribou who are dwindling as their … Continue reading →

FYI/For those of you who assume aboriginal music is just a circle of old guys chanting and beating drums or a few legendary greats such as Buffy Sainte-Marie, check out 89.3 FM (Aboriginal Voices Radio) in Edmonton Monday mornings before … Continue reading →

(my son, 4) Quiet footsteps & people leaving rooms talk in whispers– curtains drawn slowly across his falling lids as colours fade to black in Lawnmower Land a place where he can drive a large truck inspecting garbage bins unhindered … Continue reading →

“History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.”–Stephen Daedalus And if you go far enough & live long enough you shall come at last to where the remaining bodies are excavated below empty malls & coliseums. There … Continue reading →

Down the long steps to an unscheduled wood, down to the feathered green of mast-like trees swaying high and significant. An inland sea sweeps deck and continent alike, black and white peaks a geography of snow: one man, one solitude. … Continue reading →

She was big, huge in fact. When she moved it was one paw in front of the other like a stunned grizzly. She wore a red plaid jacket which her slow boyfriend liked to play checkers on at the casino. … Continue reading →

if I cd mikrowav yr mournin only nuke yr vishun wants & 4 all what a wunnerful whirld ths wd b …………………….. Bissett–king of the lower case/pretextspeak poets; overrated

Everything falls apart when it’s someone else’s story. Your guides are misfits. They are the dead. Those who pretend to lead are pompous & paralyzed. Their words form tight circles & a poison that saps your life-blood. A collage of … Continue reading →

red-blue lights blink on and off the mangled motorbike sputters in defeat its twisted metal a cruel sacrifice to an invincible semi some young male caucasian, no previous record writhes in the dirt and jagged glass his black jacket ridiculous … Continue reading →