He came like an ancient prophecy

sparked by the howling of the seasons.

Those who pursued him knew nothing of his arts

They did not see him sewn into the four winds

They did not hear him no matter how loud he sang.

In this time of virus and plague true hunger bares its teeth.

A fierce breaking, a shaking and a flailing

A swooning and a sweating, a cruel fever falling

All ab...

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Philodendron

Nothing was more of a tangerine hue

Than the lowlight of Manitoba this morning

The Winnipeg River calmed at the foot

Of its rapids and roaring

Kaylee never emerged from her tent

to see new shades

Or the vining philodendrons’ hearts

Curl and take shape

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Everything goes round the same, my friend;
Turn any which way, but when you think you have passed it,
It's on the horizon again.

              I can't tell you what you want to hear.
              Or shall I pretend that it's all
              As you'd like it to be.
                           You take a deep breath, thinking everything's clear,
                           But it only take...

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And time goes on, my friend,
Your wounds that never heal,
Will grow an ugly face,
Your troubles never end.
And life goes on and on...
Your dreams that never came,
Will haunt you as you wake,
Your broken heart won't mend.

And I say
                howl at the wind.
                run with the river.
                drift with the clouds.
                burn with the fever.
        ...

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Higher power protect me from they who have false visions
Help me guide them to make right decisions
Help them see the good in me
Open their eyes and help them see
Lord I'm trying to give them my gift
And when they are low their spirits I'll lift
Annoint my beloved and help him to trust
and free his tarnished mind from lust
For all of my intentions are pure
Void out indecisive guide him be...

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The Raising Of The Trickster

When the western sky turns slowly into the colour of an old bruise

And the last orange streaks of daylight bleed from the setting sun

A cold white vapour swirls through the fields of corn its fingers prising apart the stalks

As the lands of Albion darken and strange noises start to crawl from the mist.

At the edge of the fields there sprawls a ...

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surprisingly enough

each new day finds you

sandwiched here

between Burger king

and vacant lot -

thrice times woe man with

your brimstone smile.

slow dog-paddling

against the apathetic tide

that scours

these caves of Arndale.

your hand a flush

of trump card pamphlets,

useless

in this game

of patience;

black aces of repentance

neatly sidestepped

as the ...

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                           I am element earth and ore,

                   the twinkle in the sawdust floor. I am the brass that’s

              pressed and minted I am the note that’s newly printed. The rattling

                                               change and ringing till, the dirty, dog-eared dollar bill, the jealous         

                        gre...

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