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BEST BIO EVER Victor Enns is a writer with disabilities who lives in Kelowna with his wife Michelle Hewitt, a disability rights advocate. Enns writes extensively on the theme of abjection as presented through his embodied differences. He has published five books (four since 2005); his work also appears in Grain, Cv2, Prairie Fire, Scrivener,

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Also posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), ARCHIVES, My Life in Pieces, Pain Room, pain room blogish, Preachers' Kids | Leave a comment

ALWAYS ALWAYS BREATHE

This is a cross over piece for the Look show, Jimmy Bang Blues Project, and Listen Here. SWEET OXYGEN BLUES   I find it hard to breathe (I tell you) I find it hard to breathe I find it hard to breathe (Lord lord) why is it so hard to breathe   The words come

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Also posted in ARCHIVES, Listen Here, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, Pain Room, pain room blogish, This & That, What Men Do | Leave a comment

FALSE START 1 ish

This is the official Look show reading. But not the book the book comes after, hope burns. Name calling has already begun in my brain. Pompus piloty pig. No This is the official reading for the Look show! Sounds better already doesn’t it. That’s another show I’m on about it’s called Listen Here which is formally

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Also posted in ARCHIVES, Listening, My Life in Pieces, Pain Room, pain room blogish, Uncategorized, What Men Do, What Men Do Blogish | Leave a comment

THIS IS THE INTRODUCTION

IMG_1118 Video Director and Camera by Jayden Ryga Written and Produced by Victor (I’m # U) Enns   WHERE DOES IT HURT? My stomach hurts, usually where I put my finger in this picture. The internal bleeding has stopped. I suspect a small bleeding ulcer developed by my anxieties preparing for the opening of the

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Also posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), ARCHIVES, My Life in Pieces, Pain Room, pain room blogish, This & That, Uncategorized, What Men Do Blogish | Leave a comment

Being and Nonbeing

I am, he thought, putting down his pen. His son brought him his pants hanging by their suspenders on a peg by the door. _Wear these, Poppa. You’ll be less conspicuous. His underpants were red, his over pants were the colour of the sky in May, gray. It was raining. _Never mind, he said closing

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Also posted in ARCHIVES, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

HOLDING ON

READING A BOOK When I think I’m dying buying a new book is a commitment, only half-hearted since I downloaded it instantly for my e-reader and not for my own library shelf waiting for a diagnosis waiting for a prognosis sounds like (tug your ear) punch in the proboscis bury me not with any Bibles

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Also posted in ARCHIVES, My Life in Pieces, Pain Room, pain room blogish, Poems, This & That, Uncategorized, What Men Do, What Men Do Blogish | Leave a comment

DEAD OR ALIVE

‘The moment you tell someone you are sick, an element of doubt enters the conversation.” Source? KEEP THE RECORD STRAIGHT Nowhere does it say, “He almost died.” Let me fill that in for you.”I nearly died.”Ask anyone in ICU at 4 in the morning on Pandosy Street, and hour privileged by poets most famously by

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Also posted in ARCHIVES, Food, Health, My Life in Pieces, Pain Room, Poems, Quotations, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

TIME IN MY HANDS

“I am more of an existentialist the closer I am to running out of existence.” HE said.  Today is Thursday my computer tells me so. My colonoscopy is scheduled for Monday, the day after my wife Michelle has her MRI of her brain and her spine.  Wonder of wonders LOOK show has a few more

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Also posted in Jimmy Bang, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, Pain Room, pain room blogish, Seeing, This & That, Uncategorized, What Men Do, What Men Do Blogish | Leave a comment

I DO NOT SUFFER AS MUCH AS MANY

SUFFER There will always be someone who suffers more deeply, more righteously, more rigorously, more appropriately with higher levels of pain;  others with higher levels of accomplishment, achievement than me; like the amputee running a super marathon across the Sahara desert. Good for you. Good for the breath of God and good for fabulous prosthetics.

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Also posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

WHERE IS

THIS IS WHERE All I want is to disappear suck the disappointments I have made down the vortex never to desire never to want never to make give me pain give me shame give me suffering cry cry cry I have towels to wipe my cringing face It’s dark in this hole but I must

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Also posted in ARCHIVES, Listen Here, Poems, Preachers' Kids, Seeing, This & That, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

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