love note left by husband on eve of hunting season…..

present yourself to me
in such a verse
makes me realize
i didn’t know
hunting season had arrived

November has come early?

let me put on my orange vest and my orange hat
scare all the small creatures out from under the hunters cabin

the devils paintbrush has arrived
because i check the calendar
and see
it is still only September
-only in October
can one call it God’s paintbrush on the

But there you go again

and the hunter in me smells the fall air
and the 5 am coffee makes up for the 5pm rum until midnight

let’s not put off the inevitable
find yourself purchase on the frost floor
i will give you a head start
by noon it will be warm
by noon you will hear me coming
and tonight’s feast…..

you present yourself to me in such a verse

and the grounds north of hwy 7 are where i’ll find you
and the grounds north of concession 7 are where i’ll find you

there you go again.

It’s a living


WRITE – say the editors

-say the publishers
-say the online newspapers


get that copy over to us ASAP

it’s not news
it’s paid advertising
it’s front page coverage without the bombs

-it leads with out the bleeding

but i am bleeding
from the ears trying to compose this stuff



WRITE – says you

-says my loving wife

it’s a pay check and we need the pay.

ALL RIGHT dear -

make me some coffee
fry me some eggs slightly runny
bring me a comb for my hair
i will




Write – say i
this job from home to keep us from
will write and wonder back to
the days of pick and the shovel
will write and stare at the page
picking and shovelling the
words into these
paid editorials

forever grateful
-dear Abbey

forever grateful
-dear sir

forever grateful
-dear sanity


in the darkness there is light

we’ve been there,
in bed with the tiny particle stars
all around us
the stream coming under the window


the middle of the day
the hydro out
the weather ugly
and yet -
thin streams past the shadows
which find the
window into the room
making us fear the oncoming
night a little less.

which we prepare on the old
kitchen table
matches dug out of the cupboard

the old kitchen table
was your mothers,
the old lantern
was your grandfathers,
was built by you-
surrounding outer walls of a house
for a family
which grew into adulthood
and wonder why you talk about
home as if it were in
the past.


a phone call
or a
text msg
email or a
boxed letter -

child asking,
‘are you alright in this weather?’
and in the moment you understand
are calling as though they were 10
years old again
knocking on your bedroom door
afraid of the darkness
and needing just that fine particle
of light
which only you can provide.

they call too
now as
adult(s), making sure-
watching the rain,
that you are not in need of anything.
offering or returning
those layers of light kept in the
vault from years ago
when, outside the bedroom
something tapped in the darkness
and woke them from the security
of a bunk-bed womb.

in the exchange
weather moves along
night breaks back into day
the afternoon
remembers the morning
and the kitchen table stands on
four legs, the
way it always does.

life is simple outside of our own minds
and one day rolls into the next

but the light

the thin stream of particle stars,
take us beyond what secures us,
reminds us of what we
can’t take with us-
and ground
two generations
both wanting
which can only come

Continue reading




Saturday September 27 2014 – Martin Durkin will be Reading from his latest novel “SteelTown for Mary – Memoirs From a Dick” at The Hamilton Store on James Street as part of Culture Days | Fête de la culture. The event will take place starting at 2pm.

“I wrote SteelTown for Mary as an homage to a city I have come to love and call a second home. To be able to debut this book at The Hamilton Store via Culture Days…. it’s a great honour and I am forever thankful to Donna Reid owner of The Hamilton Store for allowing me to do so.”

In an afterword for the book – Graham Crawford original Owner of Hamilton HIStory + HERitage (Now the Hamilton Store) had these kind words to say….
“SteelTown for Mary…An unusual and remarkably rich and evocative narrative told so adeptly by an author who knows how to use in almost impossibly few words to engage the reader. Durkin brings Hamilton and its characters to life, stanza by stanza.”

For More information Regarding the event feel free to Contact Martin Durkin via Facebook or visit the EVENT PAGE:


Septembers big moon

the moon is a pool
reflected over the land in
night waters.
our cottage lake is blue
but only in texture
under the light bulb
of such wattage
and silhouette.

turn off the television
and stand at the screen door

dim down the fireplace
put on your checkered

look down at the dock
over our deckless-deck
through the pines
the old lay out of original
building plans

the moon is a pool

inside a pool

inside our lake

and tonight-
are here to take

comedian? Genius

Whatcha mean Toledo?

i dunno – Elmore Leonard steppin’ inside the skin of Raylan Givens
Gord Downie looking out through the eyes of Bill Murray
or, Murray looking down at himself and at
a Canadian rock crowd.

Doppelgänger’s you mean Toledo?

personality traits, i think more Jim
such as a Mac computer sharing screen time
with a Lennox

Oh – so binary genetics with a twist. That what you mean, Toledo?

perhaps. just certain people or things that when you see ‘em
you think – they could be the same as the other feller
that just crossed yer mind



Think maybe we’ve been in this bar long enough?

like how Kilmer has been inside Mark Twain’s suit all this time?

Yeah Toledo – winter is coming on
and even though it’s colder n’ hell out there

a direct opposite of what i’m trying to explain to you

What’s that Toledo?

cold vs hell

Ok – yea sure Toledo, but what I’m sayin’ is
it may be gettin’ cold
we gotta go home back to our wives
your philosophizn’, is beyond what this normal
bar crowd can handle

how’s that old friend?

Well – in this bar we talk hockey
Leafs V Bruins and
what not.
Poetry and music and novels
just don’t fly

even in this context?

Especially in this context ….


cart before the horse

there she was,
the beautiful-dangerous girl with the
eyes and

nothing but trouble and heartache

but the eyes
the hair

when she was happy
when she was distant
when she was sad

(when the rabbit hole was getting ready to swallow)

the eyes and the hair
even her hands -

every teenager needs to trip across a summer like this
it’s not knowing you have to get out and
run like hell in the fall


you notice the
and the eyes

-even the hands


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