Category: O Canada

Matt, I met you only once

Matt, I met you only once, we were both young(er) shining horses of the Mansfield press stable. We didn’t talk much and we didn’t talk about our poetry. Just some formalities. I have bought and read your book. Poets don’t do it often. Perhaps they read but they don’t buy. Sometimes they read and buy …

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Que viva Canada!

Davanti alle canne di un organo monumentale la direttrice del coro erinnico (ci sono degli uomini, ma la furia dei coristi e’ esplosiva) si contorce, si agita al suono, ai suoni delle voci ululanti, intermittenti come goccie di pioggia che scivolano e rimbalzano su cascate ghiacciate. Nel buio della nascita ( come in ogni momento …

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To a dead poet

I am a frequent buyer at Value village. For more than 15 years I have been buying English and Japanese tea cups, records of progressive music and Americana , North European sweaters that today have become hipster Christmas uniforms, damask pochettes, unfinished clay and papier mache’ sculptures, African  wooden masks, faded autographed paintings ( alas …

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