Saturday, November 30, 2013


Respect the rules. Some stretching is all right,
Some bending, some retreating from the field,
Some rules might be amended or repealed,
But disrespect had best not come to light
When we examine you. We felt a slight
Last winter, some misprision was revealed,
Some bald dismay, but we refused to yield.
Make enemies. Change nothing. Fear the night.

We used to be intrepid, in the past,
But now we're frightened, as we ought to be.
The secret to not feeling wholly free
Is writing down these thoughts, from first to last,
And giving up your dreams. Wake up. Walk fast.
But never think you'll walk away from me.

Tuesday, November 05, 2013

After Eating Hot Dogs

I ate as many hot dogs as I could.
I took the mustard that was in the fridge,
And cooked them on a spit, beside the bridge
Between downtown and my old neighbourhood,
The one that isn't safe, though it looks good
From over by the trees, up on the ridge.
Also, the hot dogs might have been a smidge
Too old, and undercooked — that's understood.

And when it rained (it always does) I hid
Beneath the bridge, down in the underbrush
With some raccoons, a squirrel, and a thrush,
Who reassured me we were off the grid.
Whatever I remembered, thought, or did,
No one would care. There was a gentle hush.