So shy, immaterial, you lit out at night for a climate that knows no change, peeping to the call of winter in Jamaica, first-primed paradise. Now, Swainson’s warbler, spread your wings wide, a better treat than an eagle in the hands of the migrating naturalist, your if-a-tree-falls- in-the-forest rock-a-bye-ba- by song interrupted by glass. More [...]
Wake up, Kay heard. Wake, wake, wake up, girl, whispering, then a tweedling humming, wake up wake up again, all very soft and almost sleeping in her ear. The air was cool and sweet. She had been dreaming, running along a path after Annie as the dark was coming, and where was Thea? Lost, as [...]
Three drawings of three Greek cats.
Photos from the play Duet for a Schizophrenic.
Two canvas and acrylic paintings.
I have no raisins. The larder holds no coconut. No pecans. Drat, out of nutmeg. Short one egg – O, I saw her – Aisle five, the woman who carted Last carton of eggs perhaps In the world. Her eyes above her Mouth-mask told me, ‘too bad, loser, I got here first.’ I do not [...]
A video poem.
the land has changed no longer do the grandmothers pick from the wild breast of our mother we no longer move with the season with the herds since Treaty we have had to learn to find value in what the land gives us from this space where we have been placed displaced yet we find [...]
It was eleven p.m. and the electricity was out all over Connaught. The town lay smothered in blackness except for a few windows where the light of a candle or a coal-oil lamp feebly wagged a flame. But in the Connaught Hotel, John Francis Dill’s room was afire with a grand and glorious effulgence. Minutes [...]
Episode 4 of the Eater of Words podcast in which Simon Boehm interviews Arthur Slade.