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Witch Poem

(photo from http://j-walkblog.com) mockingly, shockingly light as a feather i flew on my broom through all sorts of weather brazenly, lazily stiff as a board i flew to the moon i felt like the Lord. i felt like a teen i felt too, too nice then i was drowned, the lake froze, and  i lay in the ice. i soon was a ghost i killed half the town that's what you get when you make a girl drown.

Guest Writer Em Kwissa

Em Kwissa is a young writer who has already achieved so much:  she is a founding member of Canada’s first rural spoken word collective, who, at the age of fifteen, was the first minor to compete nationally at the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word, as well as competing in two other festivals; she runs popular writing workshops for youth in their schools, and has been involved in the Champions for Kids Foundation; she was a Poet of Honour at Canada’s first national youth poetry slam; and lastly, she is a passionate advocate against domestic and dating violence, attending youth events, protests and meetings with legislative assemblies as an advocate for abuse survivors.  This last focus of hers is what caught my attention, when I read about her activism in the feminist blog Jezebel.  I asked her to write about the experience of having her memoir,  Am I Not , made unavailable by ebook publishers Lulu.com, in an act of censorship I find astounding and senseless.  Chec...

bad sign (bad day)

great grandma Luba (paternal) great grandpa (paternal) grandma Hope (maternal) if it wasn't for bad luck i wouldn't have no luck at all

Eyes aka Woody Allen

  http://www.cvopt.com/history.html Going to the ophthalmologist makes me feel particularly maudlin, because I don’t like knowing that I have degenerative eye problems.  Maybe technology will save me from ever having anything go that wrong.  In any event, when I am in a darkened room with a doctor whose face is so close to my own and they are looking into my eyes with mirrors and reflected bright light, it makes me feel just about as lonely as can be.  It always reminds me of the scenes in Woody Allen’s Crimes and Misdemeanors that take place in an ophthalmologist’s office (obvi).  The movie is sort of a morality tale that ends with an existential lack of a moral, and the eye doctor scenes are among the most … I can’t explain it, but it’s like the amoral protagonist wishes there was a God or some order to the world but knows there isn’t, and when he treats the eyes of a very kind, religious man who is losing his sight, it’s the injustice of this go...

egon schiele

Clap If You Believe in Fairies

Thursday Poem

I’m a nobody trying to make me a name I sit at my desk and read Mickey Spillane And when lunchtime comes my onlyest care Is an elevator ride where the strangers don’t stare They stare at my rotund, irrepressible tummy They want to say something to keep the ride chummy But I just want quiet, no diets, no small talk I want high art and low art, the hereafter and cock I’m an old bag a sick hag an ER repeater But also a woman who reaches into the ether I pull out a jacket, I pull out a doll, I bundle up my son and he sleeps, And that’s all. Guido Cagnacci  Allegoria della vita umana

Kira Yustak (I love this artist)

www.kirayustak.com http://www.etsy.com/shop/kirayustak Brer Rabbit Acrylic on Canvas, 20"x16" Talking Elephants Acrylic on Canvas 24" x 30" Chatter Phone Acrylic on Canvas 20" x 16" Seahorses