​In the apartment below, 
a cigarette burns. The world 
is a slow spin and we circle, 
 
searching for weakness, 
eat each other’s words for dinner, snack 
between meals. My teeth are always hungry.
 
I sliced the pineapple and you forgave me. 
Excuses run down our chins and still, 
we eat. 
 
The wind sends snow across the back alley, 
an unending game. This is your nightmare and I am 
the disaster. A cold snap descends 
 
and every time the door opens, the birds break 
and scatter. The temperature follows the sun and I inhale; smoke 
signals danger. 
 
Pineapple is trucked thousands of miles and we wrap memories 
around our tongues. How many times 
have we rolled the dice? There is one way to win, 
 
even if birds die, even if 
we eat poison and it drips down 
our chins. Let it slide like an apology.  

​To create something
From nothing. Diabetes
be damned. I’m in love.

​Dark lover
I cup you in both hands,
Tenderly embrace you.
You envelop me with your warmth
 
I inhale the scent of you,
Savour the taste of you
Feel you slowly travel across my tongue
 
You traverse the length of my torso
Caressing me from inside
With a satisfied sigh
I close my eyes
 
God,
I love my morning cup of coffee!

​I interrupted her and
Demanded how she knew
I told her something I had never said.
You did tell me,
She answered. 
You spoke it in a dream.
I scoffed
But was curious.
What was the dream about?
She paused the kind of pause 
That always makes me think she didn’t hear. 
Just as I am about to repeat my question,
She starts. It is so annoying.
Oh, you know how dreams are. Hard to hold on to.
You try to impose something familiar onto them
That was never there
But before long they vanish 
Like the sound of a jet passing overhead.
I remember there was a dog. Not our dog.
Just a dog.
And that you broke my heart.
We were quiet for a long time after that.
Then she added
Bad dreams. They don’t fade.
Silence defeated us again and it left me to wonder
About everyone I had ever known and
How many private,
Sleep-filled moments
I had invaded.
Unbidden. 

Excerpt. Originally published in The Ex-Puritan, issue 59, Fall 2022.
 
what if this land
was not laced with rows
not fraught with trellised vines
 
what if this torn surface
was not coaxed into offering
fruit or the dying
sweetness or splendour
 
what if it was meant only
to support a hoof or
the indent of a crow’s foot not
a mouth
tamped with transgressions

Looking out the window
to you that survives it all.
The iciest of queens can’t bring you down.

Your injury - our testament
broken limbs, new life formed
L Squared Ranch – the landmark of another time.

The seasons change – babies become girls.
You, a wooden anchor soaring tall
your trunk, bent
not broken
roots dance deep below
reminding
that all is not lost. 
 
Long arms wrap around
all who rest
seconds, minutes - a respite
breathe in, breathe out
go back
go forward
go on.
 
Your outstretched arms
mark precious milestones.
Moments of time, etched forever;
Click - grade 1
Click - graduations
Click - goodbye
new traditions rooted underneath your green.
 
Nature’s goddess
you triumph
when everything else
burns in the rubble -
you still stand – a miracle.

In love and much grief and occasional anger
I rebel
 
Rebel – verb
Rebel – noun
 
In-laws say I’m misguided
as I weave between cars
handing out posters and timbits
 
Facebook friends call me
foreign funded radical
as we pool money to pay for posters
 
Neighbors call me eco terrorist
-so I threaten to make a button that says eco terrorist
for everyone in my affinity group
 
Media call us urban green left zealots
and cops take long range photos of my face
as I publicly declare my love for the earth
 
 “It serves you right” I am told
Does it? Serve?
What is right?
What if you are wrong?
 
EXPECT RESISTANCE
​