Tuesday poem #494 : Matthew Hanick : Interlude

 

 

Some songs are
for people, others
are for birds
in my dreams, there
are words spoken,
no letters, like
a plum from
its pit, the self
decenters, drops into
a body wading
in a river where
consciousness forms
and music is just
beyond the corner.

 

 

 

Matthew Hanick is a queer poet living in Toronto, Ontario. He is currently a student at Toronto Metropolitan University, where he is studying English Literature and writing reviews for The White Wall Review. His poems have appeared in The White Wall Review’s online journal and 51^st print edition, Block Party Magazine, and periodicities.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday poem #493 : Olive Andrews : love-hate poem

 

 

in my dream last night I said
I am allowed to acknowledge my thought before passing a judgement
I thought “I am petty and I’m being weird”
this felt right and I was warm

most things are different but
in the morning I still pull open the curtain and see light
hunch over the sink pressing bubbles into smaller bubbles
and obsess over dusty rose kitchenware

you can love-hate everything like your job
and the carpet from ikea that’s too dark, and email
just exist in the love-hate not really teetering
more just pressed too tightly to lean one way or the other

you told me gently olive,
I love you but it’s not normal to be this nauseous
or to always think you have appendicitis
I agree and don’t pass judgement on the agreement

 

 

 

Olive Andrews is a poet and student living in Tiohtià:ke/Montréal. Their work has been published in a number of magazines, including PRISM International, Canthius, and ARC Poetry Magazine. Their debut chapbook, rock salt, was published with Baseline Press in 2020. They are currently completing an MA in Creative Writing from Concordia University.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday poem #492 : Sue J. Levon : Fire as a Family Business

 

 

 

 

Grandad’s company manufactured them classic claw-legged

Cast iron wood-burning fireplaces. Grandma was a first-rate
Arsonist; you might’ve read about her work in a history book.
She “allegedly” started two remarkably tragic infernos. Soleil
And Flint, the premie twins, were cremated. I was fired from
My last four jobs, and I am on my way to being fired from a
Fifth. Which is a good look in a family of fire aficionados, but
Not so much in the eyes of the government institutions that
Decide if you do or do not qualify for employment insurance.
I don’t take it personally, but I do take after my grandmother.

 

 

 

 

Sue J. Levon writes and resides in Tiohtià:ke/Montreal, Canada. Their work has appeared in Prairie Fire, The Malahat Review, and The Antigonish Review, among others.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan