Last night I fell asleep before you came home. I dragged the dog out for a walk but he hates the cold as much as I do. He pissed all over the kitchen floor, he despises being alone. He ate snacks before bedtime wallowing in loneliness. You wanted to have sex while I had creative writing on my mind. My blue journal sprawled between my … Continue reading Woodnotes


If the water on the windowsill could be your molecules they would give me a paper to smell a pen to place safely away near my utensils think of me when it rains how the droplets become you and me falling from the sky like bullets on a battlefield like trees in the rainforest sometimes still most times turbulent aged and chopped preserved and honoured. … Continue reading If

Review of “Honeyface, Hers Truly” by Maria Magdeleina Lotfi

I met a poet with an old soul trapped in the body of a twenty-two year old. I told her I was trapped in a forty-eight year old body and we understood each other. We both come from Montreal. We both come from immigrant parents. We are both poets. We exchanged our books on Sherbrooke street. It was a meeting of the minds. We both … Continue reading Review of “Honeyface, Hers Truly” by Maria Magdeleina Lotfi


Once he saw my eyes and left me blinded by his look. I told him jokingly I would be his Brooklyn Baby from Montreal, but he never listened to Lana as closely as I always do and my boyfriend was singing on stage. I’m too old to love him; I’m to cold to hold him; I’m too sweet to know his bad-ass; but he holds … Continue reading hallucinations