spring 2014
Table of Contents
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The Ford Takes Us to Wreck Beach
Melissa Sawatsky
I Invent a Character Before Lunch
Steve Klepetar
Ariadne: the untangler
Fiona Mitchell
The Last Year of His Life Barbara Brooks
No Small Effort Joseph Dorazio
In the South Chilcotins
The Shell
Rob Taylor
Poem for Jeff
Poetry Shortage
Kayla Czaga
We Are At Our Best
When the Rain Ceases Falling on Hanover
Richard-Yves Sitoski
Lost and Found Things I Noticed . . . Ricky Garni
Ballast in Bone Kevin Spenst
An Interview with a Caribou Richard Kelly Kemick
The Day The Rain Stopped
Jane Mellor
Ballast in Bone
Home is a heartbeat burst,
a breaking of babka in two,
a crack under your shoe
that seismographs a line
to the old horizon that rises
into mountains and holiday
skies ossified in cloud.
From a boat we plunged into
an ocean of water-logged dogs.
Home wends in a held breath
through a tracing reminiscent
of Photoshop where one must
isolate a face with
a semi-invisible lasso,
a tool that looks like an ocular
migraine. Home is that headache
swishing under your skull as
you feel for the fracture between
living and leaving, even while
you make a calendar of collages
for Christmas with all the dates
you’ve hugged each other
in a long-held game of not letting go.