This & That


ENNS THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

MIRROR MIRROR I crash my wheelchair into the dresser, my mirror jumps, sweeps the CDs off the top of the stereo lands just so, not breaking, landing enough on the bed not to shatter, but shuddering loose in the frame, with nothing  to reflect except the spackled ceiling. My mirror rests, no more selves to

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START ME UP

ONE MORE PARANOIA (Prospecting)  Dec 4, 2019 (in Gimli) My van wouldn’t start on Tuesday. A turn of the key created a click followed by a fluttering sound. I wasn’t certain it was the right dead battery sound. I had an appointment, or thought I did with a my General Practitioner at 10:40. Turns out

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PROSPECTING

ALL MY PARANOIAS by Victor Enns    They chase me down like a Thurber cartoon Some so simple as “you stink” as I sniff and sniff And can’t tell the difference since yesterday. There’s the one “you think you’re so smart,” all frown and sneer “you and your big words, who do you think you

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V IS FOR VOWELS, ABJECT

This is my work for the day, updating and editing my abject vowels.They have been posted under the Abject Alphabet tab, and I’ll likely make it appear under Vicipedia as well. THE VOWELS OF THE ABJECT ALPHABET from AN ABJECT ALPHABET [1]“I am abject, that is mortal and speaking,” wrote Julia Kristeva.The term abjection literally

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DOWNHILL SKIING

from imaginary conversations Bruise You see this bruise? The one on your leg? Yeah that’s the one just underneath my birthmark. What about it? I got that skiing downhill at Innsbruck. You’ve never been to Innsbruck! You don’t even know how to ski. You try to convince my bruise of that! Where else do you

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Also posted in Blog, My Life in Pieces, Pain Room, Patreon, Preachers' Kids, Seeing, Uncategorized, What Men Do, What Men Do Blogish | Leave a comment

QUOTE FROM A DEAD WRITER

Writing consumes writers. No end of ones better than I am have said as much. The passion hurts relationships. I think off and on about people I love, but I think about writing all the time. Writing is hard, or everyone would do it.*  By Peter Schjeldahl.    I am feeling Quiltly (ha ha ha)

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Also posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), Blog, Family Matters, Health, My (new) Left Foot, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, pain room blogish, Quotations, What Men Do Blogish | Leave a comment

PROSPECTING

The two stanzas below were found among the papers of Jimmy Bang since deceased. There are several unnamed poems which seem to be written in German or Germlish and using translation program back to English, back and forth like a really good game of horseshoes, a real kick in the pants.  I lift my match light my cigarette

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Also posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), ARCHIVES, Blog, Envoi, My (new) Left Foot, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, pain room blogish, Poems, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

EAT MORE PEARS

DID you know pears have more fibre than apples, and that’s saying a lot. Here’s a film I wrote and produced, that will not remind you of fibre, lovingly shot byKevin Nikkel, starring Eliandre Nikkel, a rare gem. Jim Van Dusen reached my word with ÉLAN! Kevin Cockle and Jay Taylor wrote and performed the “wait

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Also posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), ARCHIVES, Blog, Health, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, pain room blogish, Reading Canadian Poems, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Looking for Look

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Also posted in Blog, MANIFESTOS, My Life in Pieces, Poems, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

A POEM FOR SUNDAY

LEAVING BOISSEVAIN I like how I smell when I wear cool blue deodorant lying in bed listening to  girls with guitars rocking this way rocking that way where was she last night counting the tips at the end of her shift she was listening to girls with guitars dishing the blues Because there may be

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Also posted in ARCHIVES, Blog, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, Poems, Preachers' Kids | Leave a comment

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