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Literature

Two poems

November Rose Your friend cried because she was too busy to get sick, you dropped everything and crossed the room to kiss her forehead. I longed to catch her cold and wished I knew how to cry. Your taxi never came because I got the…

Dear Mr. Christianson

The letter I should have wrote to Mr. Christianson: Thank you for going to bat for me, for bending the rules, for talking the principal into letting me graduate even though technically, I had too many absences, for seeing my talent and…

Calesa

In Nanaimo, I take a cab to work. I spend the midnight shift serving subs, Japa-dogs, and gourmet poutine, to the slurring, swaying, bar crowd crying out for more pickles, less pickles, no onions, more sauce please, this isn’t what I…

Backstage

Yannis skipped the line with the appropriate aplomb, glancing over his shoulder to notice it stretch down the block. He shook the hand of the head bouncer, Rufus, who was about the largest, ruddiest Englishman outside the world of…