Monthly Archive: September 2015

10pm Skytrain commute

Working man on the sky train with a face like Spencer Tracy in Boom Town, forty years later. His hands are my Dad’s: short, wide, and strong as muscly octopi, a few digits short. Purple marks on the nails. Cuts. Splinters. Construction pants have drywall mud splattered on them. Still working this hard with a …

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don’t buy this mattress from “Canadian” tire, buy local instead

The ferry ride to Bowen Island is a meditation. Twenty minutes: too short to do anything, really, except just “be”. I get out of my car and head to the front of the deck to stand in the rain: a shivering mid-sized  woman in a thin sweater beside her compact car, bobbing on a boat between …

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Old dog. Half blind.

Tonight my old man dog snoozes with his ears poking up. I wonder if he’s dreaming of when he was a pup.  This long suffering hound has seen me through so many bad boyfriends. They’re gone, but he’s still around. Farting. Snoring. Inexplicably licking the carpet. Still wagging his tail, half mast, as he wobbles …

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when the news reel reeks

Little boy in a red sweater, dead, face down on a beach. A girl of two and her father murdered in the mountains by a shy quiet man in a shy quiet town in the shadow of the Rockies. It’s not a bright week; the news reel reeks. I post something on Facebook about Syrian …

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