I listen to music, read, write poetry and prose, and make videocasts, usually in collaboration with visual and media artist Murray Toews. I am a writer with disabilities, or a disabled writer, or a neurodivergent crip writer. You choose the point of entry for your reading;  there are no border guards.  The welcome mat is out. Stomp your feet and leave your shoes on. 

But remember

Always Breathe, (n n 2025) 186 page of raw, candid, memoir from my face to face meeting with a brick wall when I was 6 months old, to my narrow escape from a badly bungled methadone transition that nearly killed me. A quick sample.

I am dizzy I am raw

Still to sign a DNR

My hallucinations

stand around my bed

they breathe too,

until I’m dead.

Order Always Breathe online.

Love & Surgery (Radiant 2019)  was my  collection of words about love and loss, including my below-the-left- knee amputation, my most visible disability. “Lousy cartilage genetics,”  the surgeon’s note. Lucky for me no phantom leg pain. Disappearing cartilage makes for severe osteoarthritis. Real pain is now an everyday companion, but usually held back enough with meds and meditation, to allow for making poems, stories, jokes, aphorisms all true enough, remembering narrators are unreliable and writers make shit up. 

Afghanistan Confessions, poems in the voice of Canadian soldiers, was published in 2014, boy in 2012. Lucky Man (2005) was nominated for the McNally Robinson Manitoba Book of the Year award.