spring 2014
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageAn Interview with a Caribou Richard Kelly Kemick
Ballast in Bone Kevin Spenst
Lost and Found Things I Noticed . . . Ricky Garni
In the South Chilcotins
The Shell
Rob Taylor
The Day The Rain Stopped
Jane Mellor
Ariadne: the untangler
Fiona Mitchell
Poem for Jeff
Poetry Shortage
Kayla Czaga
No Small Effort Joseph Dorazio
We Are At Our Best
When the Rain Ceases Falling on Hanover
Richard-Yves Sitoski
The Ford Takes Us to Wreck Beach
Melissa Sawatsky
The Last Year of His Life Barbara Brooks
I Invent a Character Before Lunch
Steve Klepetar
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.