"It's about words, and words are all I have…"



did you know they’ve corralled Al Purdy now?

at Queen’s Park  park   he’s in an enclosure

a giant black granite poet   girthy Al + all the

leaves   Euthrie unconsolable  + in a hell hath no

fury  fury


like a woman left for her best friend   who Al Purdy

married   impregnated  +dumped   for Euthrie!  who

also had his son


he’s being kept in a cage  post assisted  riddled

with cancer death   so that his ghost cannot break

another heart   except mine   with his words so

Canadian sublime:


Oh beautiful as an angel’s ass   No, I do not love you 


each time i return to his stanzas  chills rush up my spine

and a fever burns when thoughts turn to sharing a log cabin

with Al sometime


he of the thick lumberjack fingers  +deep baritone

wide lapped  +bad to the bone



Married Man’s Song   (Al Purdy  1970)

she stands above him as a stone goddess

weeping tears and honey

she is half his age and far older 

and how can a man tell his wife this?


In rare cases among the legions of married men

such moments of shining never happened

and whether to praise such men for their steadfast virtue

or condemn them as fools for living without magic

answer can hardly be given






Fall 2018  ..RIP Al..   born 1918 – assisted death 2000


i am a sucker for

girth   +guys named Al


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