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Poetry

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…

Silhouette

The first bullet hissed and broke air spiraling from the rifle barrel; a kiss adiós blown from atop the Mandalay Bay lair. A Nevadan reaping concert goers’ bliss; few shelter from a hail of depleted uranium. Country music fades from…

I Stand with Janis

I hear you are afraid, I believe you. See you. You are important. Your voice it does not waiver requesting accountability. Resilient. Strong. Warm. I hold a candle that shines for you and a prayer that you never give up.…