Labour Day Wknd…..School? Starts On Tuesday

a group of high-schoolers walk past the monument steam engine
the spirit of Sir John A
downtown Kingston

they pat the big wheels
they camera phone their high-school poses
they pat the big wheels some more

The Spirit of Sir John A, Engine 1095

‘WOW’
says one

‘1095!’
says another

‘CAN YOU BELIEVE IT’
says a third

‘THIS TRAIN WAS BUILT IN THE YEAR 1095 AND IT STILL EXISTS’
they all agree

i sometimes wonder about adults who still strike a pose for the camera
when well into adulthood

they sip their sippy pop drinks
they sip their sippy pop drinks
they sip their sippy pop drinks
.
.
.
.
.
6 blocks yonder at the corner of King and West
a scream is heard in City Park
police rush to the scene only to find
Sir John A’s statue has fallen over
and rolled several times on the
ground.


early cold beautiful sunrise morning – forever night

look at those withered desert hands

someone so skinny
so young

rock star addict
20 into 50 gets you
nothing
only time served

more time coming before the black

there is sand in your crow fed hands

crow feet

crow line(d)

your eyes tell the same story
lost in a dry storm of your
own doing

what comes next?

the blame
pointing of fingers?

un-acknowledgement

then finally you pack it all in

the rest of the world doesn’t understand
the world abandoned you

it’s a cruel world

a beautiful cruel world

with lines in the hand
in
the sand

crows circling the sky

and your young skinny body

20 into 50

gets you another smoke
and whatever

else


bettie page

your body is a clothes hanger
which they need to showcase their fashion

shoulders downwards
onwards
into the bone nothing

stand and stroll the walkway
cameras are ready for the magazine

you disappear into the staples
and folds

what would a full Page
Bettie say?


these wolves

the wolves are at your door?

no

they’re at mine

demon killers or egg hatchers
bottom floor wishes
lost into the night air

smoke through a fly screen

talk to the IM box until
sunrise
sleep until mid warmth of noon
tell the outside world it’s something else

these wolves
my wolves

not your wolves

this hut – is their den.


Martini Dry

little golden hairs
baking
in the sun

summer warm August- else where

Martini Dry

the lack of rain is sun glistening
dry heat- waving upwards – sky

lay backside
hands to eyes
smile

straw in glass
book by right loin muscled

no blanket
no pavement

hard sand cooked

serving you up- on brown platter

pool ignored – left hand side
makes pool ‘can’t you feel me’ – pool sounds

little

golden

hairs

……..breathe


Betty White Smile

betty white was a pin up?!
Betty White was a pin up.

Betty
white….was young once?

betty
White

a nude pin up…..

what more can you say?
those were the days…..


3PM at The Active Arts Studio in Rednersville

hold that beer Richard

make the crowd believe the
hotel hasn’t burned to the ground.
hold that beer
and make Shakespeare believe
it could be Yoricks skull.

hold that beer Richard

look up at the crowd
not a church crowd
but a
bar crowd.
make sure you’re unshaven
wearing something
not found on the ordinary
clothes rack -
it’s the only way we’ll believe
you’re the embodiment of
the Roblin human
spirit.

take off that hat Richard

put on those sun glazed
sun glasses.
get that deep sound
get that high pitched
‘ i wouldn’t want to go to jail’….
sound.

hold that beer Richard

show us your eyes
the threatening face of a working
man
the eyes that know and
have seen Canada
in Canada’s own back
yard.

hold that beer Richard

sit on the stool
show us the hands with
cabin splinters
and empty your guts
reading the words
from a Manly diary
from a man
who saw and did
it
all

hold that beer

AL.


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