look at me

i mean nothing
i speak nothing

i born to great gasps of air blue
i exhaling now bluegrey

i present evidence
i anonymous fine dust

i sift
i finding nothing sift

i on the flat wheel turn
i am not fingers

Just Like That

Ten years later and I finally thought of what to say.
I’m in the shower and it comes to me, just like that.

I rerun that conversation at least twice a month,
Where you say that, and I say this, et cetera.

It’s almost certainly warped beyond recognition.
I’ve altered it and changed it just enough so

I can finally put these words in your mouth
And these other perfect words in my mouth

And we can… I’m not sure what happens.
Almost certainly you say something,

And I say the wrong thing. So
I’ll see you in another ten,

When I’m in the shower and it
Comes to me, just like that.

a small bird

i think
what i think
i think

as always
twice removed
from it

i think
some small bird
lives in there

to narrate
for me

i think
i am not this bird
yet i am

a story
who tells

you think
unoften of me
since you

are also
listening intently
to a small bird


so ends its many-fingered chord
ever-counting its audience

leave via riot

7th 11th 13th
no no none of these

we swindle down corner thugs

yes the usual please
just the usual

whose composer tried
oh how

as ever

sweet yorewist

sweet yorewist
pinksome fog outspread behind me

wander unreflecting into its
dense mandelmurk

each shrouded menhir speaks
in furrowed tales

the stone of which
is the greater dreamlore

what bendsome hereafter comes
may happen nonetheless

i stumble backwards
unsighted into it


I confess nothing because
I need to confess nothing

Whatever it is it is
Written indelibly on my slackness

You can see it woven beneath
All-too-thin skin

This is why you
Don’t make eye contact

If you did you might
See a different story


alas whose body
at toe is ochre & gold &
crisp wrapping paper

you could not last the year

i will lie down amidst you
watch the sky
an expectation

jesus christ
holy comet of fire most bright

the participle of man’s desiring
arrives to hydrate

we have never met
we have never stopped meeting

so i wait in your bones
till even these coals become dust

& some grey janitor
turns us into cloud

Mississauga VI

Part Of A Series Of Poems About Mississauga

o mississauga
      i remember her vocabulary
      her cadence & inflection
      thick with traffic
      running nowhere

o mississauga
      does this departure gladden
      are her streets tinted gold
      is the house i built filled
      with gratitude & laughter

o mississauga
      just down the highway
      i thought once perhaps you could
      be calmed be settled be okay
      (you could not)

o mississauga
      another follows in my wake
      a fraud a fake a not-quite
      but he pays his taxes & mows his lawn &
      that’s good enough