Tuesday, September 26, 2023

Tuesday poem #547 : Jason Emde : heaven & earth go about their changes



every time I worry
my libido’s shot forever
I remember Ai
naked, smooth-skinned,
mounting Setsuko
& kiss-licking her,
Setsuko stroking Ai’s thigh
with the back of her hand
long ago—

snow slides off a leaf of bamboo,


leaf leaps up





Jason Emde is a teacher, writer, undefeated amateur boxer, Prince enthusiast, podcaster, and a graduate of the University of British Columbia's MFA Creative Writing program. A finalist for the CBC Creative Nonfiction literary award, Jason is the author of My Hand’s Tired & My Heart Aches (Kalamalka Press, 2005) and little bit die (Bolero Bird, 2023). Informed and inspired by such authors as Jack Kerouac, Don DeLillo, Susan Musgrave, Walt Whitman, Lucia Berlin, Louis-Ferdinand Céline, and Joan Didion, and focused on roving, expatriation, pilgrimage, loss, and a systematic derangement of the senses, his work has appeared in numerous magazines and journals, including Real Travel, The Malahat Review, Soliloquies Anthology, Ulalume Lighthouse, PopMatters, The Watershed Review, Short Writings from Bulawayo III, Burnt Pine Magazine, and Who Lies Beautifully: The Kalamalka Anthology, as well as featuring in Orange Lighthouse's Post-a-Poem project. Emde is also the creator and host of the Writers Read Their Early Sh*t podcast. Now working on a travel memoir, Solved By Walking: Wising Up, Breaking Through, & Conquering Death on Japan’s 1200-Year-Old Buddhist Pilgrimage, Emde lives in Gifu City, Japan, with his wife, Maho, and their typhoon sons, Joe and Sasha.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday, September 19, 2023

Tuesday poem #546 : Erin Robinsong : FERAL PRAYER

I give up. I give up asking. I give up asking for anything

less than billions of gills sporulating revolution’s pheromone.

The trash of civilization is who I love. Anything less than

billions of salmon returning themselves to the forest.

All I ask are rivers, predictable flowering seasons, storm

corridors & wet wide will to surge the brilliance we are

omitting in the practice of citizenry to a system who hates

99% of itself. Big black cat of the heavens, purr this numbness

to death. My civilization suppresses weeds as much as women

so weeds grow to the size of the sky & rain down seeds on our

heads so pharma is free, so loneliness undoes among monocrops

in eruptions of yellow. The alternative is wind so strong I fear

the trees thrashing at the edge of ability to hold on & flex

losing bits of themselves on the roof like us losers –

colossal loss is us, is the alternative to a pulse of salmon,

a peristalsis of wings. Great undulation of oceans, retilt

brainwaves glitched in place & make intelligence surge

in the stupidest places of this situation of waves, salmon

streams & sky, by way of orgasm & plasma & everything

unfinished, so life stays alive I give up asking for anything

less than this kiss





Erin Robinsong is a poet and interdisciplinary artist working with ecological imagination. She is the author of Rag Cosmology, winner the 2017 A.M. Klein Prize for Poetry, and Wet Dream (Brick Books, 2022). Collaborative performance works with Andréa de Keijzer and Hanna Sybille Müller include This ritual is not an accident; Facing away from that which is coming; revolutions and Polymorphic Microbe Bodies. 

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday, September 12, 2023

Tuesday poem #545 : Trisia Eddy Woods : july


wildness is fierce and audacious in the foothills. the further up the mountain,
the more deeply the essence of the undomesticated horse is embedded. it rolls

around inside their barrels, fills their heads with an intoxicating current

that makes their manes curl and their tails flag. they are a perpetual storm.

follow the streams downhill towards the east, however, and that current collides

with large swaths of grazing cattle left to roam the free leases.

in late spring they are let loose to ruminate on the prairie grasses just beginning
to sprout. come high summer, a drive along the trunk road is like a stroll

through a steamy bath house cows heavy with heat meander along the ditches

and ignore the calves who frolic out into oncoming trucks. chewing and chewing

while they wallow in pools of shade, chewing and chewing while tuning out

the incessant buzz of black flies and mosquitoes. shallow creeks with fragile

banks that provide their drinking water become slides of mud, filled with sediment.

the exhausted prairie becomes cratered. a moon fractured by hundreds of cloven

hooves carrying the weight of half-ton bovines.





Trisia Eddy Woods is a writer, artist, and wildlife photographer who lives in Edmonton / amiskwaciwâskahikan. Her writing has been published in a variety of journals, both in print and online, and the chapbook ‘Edith & Aurelia: A Romantic Tragedy in Five Acts’ was published by dancing girl press. She has had artwork exhibited both at home and internationally. Her current project explores the intersection of wild horses and solastalgia in the Alberta foothills.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday, September 05, 2023

Tuesday poem #544 : Colin Dardis : Musical Instruction for a City



she would like / her ears / to be smaller
and not hear / the music / of the city
all that concrete beat / and percussion / of engine
timpani of people / with their footsteps / and messages

if she / would mute / the brass and the brash
the con biro / con fuoco / furioso forte formula
turn the dial / all the way / to pianissimo
(because / who believes / in complete silence?)

she could / breath / without the weight
of a metropolis / on her / chest
not / that she believes / in the Anahata
for she has been / in the heart / of the city
and found / it free / of compassion




Colin Dardis is a neurodivergent poet, editor and sound artist from Northern Ireland. His work, largely influenced by his experiences with depression and Asperger's, has been published widely throughout Ireland, the UK and USA. His latest book is Apocrypha: Collected Early Poems (Cyberwit, 2022). His latest album is Funerealism (Inner Demons Records, 2022).

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan