Namedfropping


I DREAM OF ANNE CARSON

SCENE ONE! (I can smear the snickering already. Make that hear. I will check each line by line, or not. As dementia sinks in, I am dismayed how much how quickly of brains “braininess” is ripped out. ) I signed up for an academic.edu class, The time It was to begin was written as 1:00

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Also posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), ARCHIVES, Blog, Dreams, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, pain room blogish, Poems, Quotations, Seeing, Shit My Mother Said, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

FISH IN THE SEA

NO-ONE TALKS TO ME because I’m deaf, fat, crippled, morally corrupted whenever I touch myself when I should be touching you got nothing to lord, but the sin. I’m going to make it up those pictures in my head projected from that part of me as unreliable as a fishhook past its depth and me

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Also posted in ARCHIVES, Blog, Dreams, Family Matters, Jimmy Bang, This & That, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The Mad Phoenician Meets Julia Kristeva

BEGINNING AGAIN I have been writing the Abject Alphabet since the 1980s, after Kroetsch’s Sad Phoenician, I must be the Mad Phoenician I thought. I met Julia Kristeva when she was promoting a novel which I’ve since given away. I discovered my friend Peter Dueck (rhymes with dew ick) was in Toronto for national meetings as I

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Also posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), ARCHIVES, Blog, Dreams, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

A DOG’S LIFE

Murray Toews is a hard-working guy, devilishly modest about his talent making images. He is kind, and a good friend.  He has some invisible disabilities (oops) and something physical/biological that affects his eyebrows. We met when I was publisher of Rhubarb and he was,  first our Visual Arts Editor, then eventually conjuring images for our

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Also posted in Blog, My Daily Fog, My Life in Pieces, Uncategorized, What Men Do Blogish | Leave a comment

MISSING CONFESSION OF ST AUGUSTINE

It was regrettable, blessing the donations brought by the devil to the church by pirates, whore-masters, slave-traders, and worse. I swear the money was put to good use to feed us, and have hats, garments and distinctive robes made (employing many I would add) so needed for our public appearances, and banquets, now such an important

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Also posted in Blog, My Life in Pieces, Preachers' Kids | Leave a comment

The Ballad of the Children of the Czar

About my blog I will post anything and everything that pops into my head as often as I can,  appropriate from my thinking. This is the most likely spot for He was the kind of guy, jokes, quotations, journal and diary entries. It is born free, as free as the wind blows (remember) which way?

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Also posted in Blog, Listening, Poems, Quotations, Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Poets’ Poker Night in Regina

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Also posted in Blog, Listening, My Daily Fog, Poems, Quotations, This & That | Leave a comment

The Sad Phoenician – an advent alphabet

Robert Kroetsch entered my  life in 1979, teaching the advanced creative writing workshop at the University of Manitoba.  I heard him read The Sad Phoenician in 1979 the year it was published by Coach House Press. The reading was in St John’s College, the Chapel I like to think. The very same chapel in which

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Also posted in Envoi, Music for Men Over Fifty: Poems of Love and Surgery, Poems, Reading Canadian Poems, Recommended Reading, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

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