Shane Neilson

Tamer wakes alone, thinning blond hair hanging down over his eyes

Tamer wakes alone, thinning blond hair hanging down over his eyes.

I drive to Fredericton from Guelph every bridging weekend between September and October to visit my aging parents, to see the tree leaves signal their riotous death-parade along the Saint John River...and I come for poetry too.

Out of ether halothane and drugged-down brain-sate they gave me q.i.d,

The life locked in pastoral: Ramshackle barns the colour of varnish,

Hey skinnybones, your body like a periscope, gangly, and collapsible,

Intoxicant: in the air, dream interpretation is scittered scat, is big-top

Biggsmall Alice, let us go to Stockholm and get a syndrome that's pure

Wedding in Fire Country: Darren Bifford

"Yours, Al: The Collected Letters of Al Purdy" Ed. Sam Solecki