Wednesday, June 24, 2009


walking home from the bus stop
the city air is thick and hot
sunset brings scant relief
all that concrete...
baking us while we sleep

i trudge through clouds of patio conversation
lost snippets and curtailed sagas
philosophies without context

Outside the Mission, clustered like schoolboys, effete and grown wild
tattered men growl stories of ambush and malaise

...he woulda stabbed me
...get a knife...
...get a bottle into you...
...I'm going to beat that motherfucker!
...well... know Georgie!

broken glass voices telling broken heart tales

hey buddy have you got an extra cigarette?

Sunday, June 21, 2009

levity in the face of exigency


I've been hiding.
Feeling like a nasty little troll, for quite some time.

This weekend i emerged from my cave and found the weather was fine. The faces were friendly. Its been a pretty great two days. lovely even. and long overdue.


Timber Timbre played with the Great Lake Swimmers at the baptist church on friday night. The sound in there was amazing and i got to read some bibles in between the acts. Leviticus is funny stuff, kids. "Two Shekels and a bad Haircut!!" heh. Pizza and beers with Tricky Dick at Jordan's place afterwards.

Saturday was productive. worked out a bit, went for coffee, bought some cake pans, picked up Ira Glass' new book, and Brett EAston Ellis' 'The Informers', cleaned the whole apartment, jammed some uke tunes and practiced singing. (singing!!) the good news is i'm not tone deaf or hopelessly awful. Just petrefied and quaking.

I had the absolute best bus ride dowtown with a lady dressed kind of like Dame Edna, all in drape-y pastels, sparkley eye makeup, draping herself across the priority seating like it was a chaise longue. She was busy making a bunch of 12 year old boys anxious with her absurd chatter. They stood in a herd shifting and fidgeting with wide, nervous eyes, averting her gaze as she bantered and coo'd at the rest of us, uncomfortable, as though her strangeness might be catching. She was nothing but pleasantness in a way that only grandmothers usually are, and when asked if she was wearing a pair of EGGS on her head - She was, in fact, as part of her spring theme- she waggled them on their springs and replied that it was only because she had such great eggspectations in life. She had a Vie en Rose bag full of ponies with elaborate names. Her name was Cassandra and i don't think i've ever regretted leaving my camera at home more viscerally. I hope i get to talk with her again.

In the evening, we ditched a party, stayed in, and just chilled. Not in a troll-ish way, but in a cozy way, which was perfect. We gorged ourselves on fancy sandwiches that Richard made and then this happened, which made us howl.

I slept like a baby and dreamed real dreams.

I got up early-ish this morning to head downtown in hopes of catching a few shots of the Rideau street preacher, but for whatever reason, he wasn't there. I always see him when i'm in a hurry. There's this softness to him, and he's got this face... Anyway, I hope he comes back. And i hope he lets me take his picture...

So it was marguerita for breakfast, Latte for lunch, and spent the afternoon hogging the comfy chairs at Bridgehead, finally finishing my bio for the website. (LONG overdue, and about the most gruelling and awful thing i have ever had to write...) THREE hours for a few tiny paragraphs! in the end, i think i got it right, and i can't say how glad i am that i don't have to think about it anymore.

Its looking more and more like i'll be heading back to school next fall.
(excitement! terror! poverty!!)

thats it for now.