POEMS HERE, POEMS THERE

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Just had a poem published in the Winter '09 issue of Labor: Studies in Working-Class History of the Americas out of Duke University in Durham, NC. They publish one poem per issue, under the heading "The Common Verse". I have come to realize that's what I do best. I'm looking forward to getting my contributor's copy. The subject matter is a little different from other magazines I've been in.



And if work-related poetry isn't your thing, I've got a poem in the anthology Rogue Stimulus: The Stephen Harper Holiday Anthology for a Prorogued Parliament edited by Stephen Brockwell, Stuart Ross and Denis De Klerck and published by Mansfield Press. It's slated to be out just as parliament reconvenes at the beginning of March. "Contrary to what the Harper government would have Canadians believe about the “chattering classes”, said the call for submissions, "people are expressing their outrage over Harper’s unilateralism at family dinners, in the workplace, in social media and in print."



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POEMS ARE MADE BY FOOLS LIKE ME

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Winter is upon us. As someone who is occasionally felled by S.A.D., what to do, what to do...

Drive to Vancouver.



Take ferry over to Bowen Island.





Set up room (Perogy Cat loves to watch me agonize over an elusive poem).



Meet with dear poetfriends and get to prepping some of the amazing food we ate, under the artful tutelage of the lovely and talented, (both as poet and cook) Somae.





A room awaits the arrival of the poets.



Allow time for laughter.



And coffee.



What an incredible privilege to get to hang out and talk and listen and write with all of you (two missing from photo; you know who you are and we love you, too! Damn ferry schedules).



Thank you.

Here's that elusive one.


JUST PRETEND YOU’RE DEAD AND MAKE A DECISION


find a home for the Belleek vase with the roses
box the books you’ll never read again
put water on to boil and forget it

sort the sheet music into piles
violin/piano/vocals
sort those into difficult and easy
and disperse accordingly
forget to flush the toilet

keep your wedding picture
and the lock of someone’s hair
thow away the bag meant for Goodwill

read old letters
imagine how you’d answer them now
prepare a pyre for the ceremony
while the toast is burning

clean the silver one last time
give away the piano
spend an hour searching for the remote
it’s in your pocket


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HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN FARRELL, WHEREVER YOU MAY BE

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Hi there, all you faithful readers. I've been AWOL, but you probably noticed that. My apologies. I'll do a more comprehesive post soon, but all of a sudden it's January 10, and that means it's a bunch of peoples' birthdays, including that of Jesse's dad. Jesse would love to find his dad, which would be (and has always been) absolutely fine with me, hence the picture (from 1988, King City, Ontario) and blog title.

Happy Birthday, as well, to Pegi and Marilyn.

All of you know who you are.

Here's a more recent picture of the lad.



Special thanks to Paul and the mysterious Annett who left comments on my last post.

Happy New Year, and thanks for checking in.

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