Category Archives: Poetry

red write rite read write rite read red rite read red write read red write rite red write rite read read rite write red red read rite write write red read rite rite write red read read rite write red … Continue reading →

You pay careful attention and are rewarded. “No comment” in Discovery Passages by Garry Thomas Morse rings the changes on elements such as the tiny word “gives” — all drawn from Indian Agent reports and petitions to practice ancient ways … Continue reading →

From VII in the sequence “Migrant” in The Lease by Mathew Henderson. The foxes have lapped the water from sloughs contaminated by cow shit and they are later retching rabbit from their stomachs in the field And even this water … Continue reading →

“Bleak,” he said. What about the poem where he plays with himself? Actually it’s called “Making Love to Myself”. And it is poignant — which is not the same as “bleak.” Indeed in his introduction, Mark Doty devotes considerable space … Continue reading →

Segments of this appeared in Text Tiles and here it takes on another flavour. I have travelled too far I have not enough of enough to write epic or species of ace even my arrows and heroes salted by ink’s … Continue reading →

Writing 16 (October 1986). Nicole Brossard translated by Susanne de Lotbinière-Harwood. “Her Hand On A Book Resting While Our Bodies Obliquely”. Brava for the French and Brava Encore for the English. But a brief impression of the delicate tensions held … Continue reading →

In one of the small songs in Thirty-seven Small Songs & Thirteen Silences Jan Zwicky creates in a minimal space an evocative scenario that shimmers with reflection upon the passage of time. Here are the opening and closing which look … Continue reading →