copyright © 2004 all rights reserved
I move in to life,
my slippers black from the street -
Our neighbours ask, "what's with him?
the walking through sleep,
the running through our hedges full tilt?"
But we suck at saving face - standing there, pajama-bottomed
"Can't you hear the noise?" you offer. "Your heart telling you
night after night what it really wants;
where it really wants to go?"
how it's kicking at the tires, the pillows,
our roofs -
a pounding you could dance to.
Your heart brimming -
kissing that storm on legs;
her bathroom all lotions, potions, and creams.
With a new love
gifts are in order -
at least a book on gambling
or getting out of debt like a pro.
I have dreamt of an empty in-box,
that the next horse was mine,
that history was never meant as a personal thing.
And I awake, howling and hurling garbage cans
down the road again,
as a fuck you to all the dents and mis-throws of
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
received his BFA from York University majoring in visual arts and creative writing. His poems have appeared in Poetry Canada, Lichen, McGill Street Magazine,
and as lyrics for Toronto pop band PoorMarqus. He has received writing awards from McLaughlin Fellows, Vandoo Newsmagazine,
and Books In Canada. He now works in Toronto as an actor, writer, and musician.