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

Archive for the category “AAC”


did u know there are 5 loon calls?  one is cackle

+looneybin   perhaps where this non PC moniker

of madness  was born


i heard it once in the woods at 4 am


with my husband of 3 yrs.  a real woodsy piece of work

even more so now  a hairsbreadth from 70  says things like:

sorry if u see it that way  á la Julie Payette  the fired Gov Gen


(both Gestalt therapy savants ie., deny deny deny!)


i read somewhere that the combo of Viking+Jew  is the most

fiery of all unions  how true  my kishkas are BBQ’d  + on chilly

nights  under moonsblue   i cackle like a loonfool


our final act may involve murder  or renewed vows!  ’cause once

you’ve had Viking  you are broken+brunhilda   able to eat rawbison

with yer bare hands   yet forever transformed  🐃 🐃


Mighty Thor  circa 1974


Summer 2022   ..hey Thor ..don’t lose yer sense of humour..







rumour has it

some rumours i have heard:

nails+hair continue to grow  in the grave

i know u are rolling your eyes  thinking  old poet

go on a fucking holiday!


maybe too late for that  2.5 yrs into the pestilence

i spent my 1st evening  with more than 3 people

there were 10


though i walked like a human  +talked like a human

i was zombified   trying to recall how to socialize  which

i never truly mastered  pre these covidtimes


i could tell my interlocutor wanted to escape  my wordswamp

words  stuck+defeated  croaked out   my train of thought

dead on the tracks


head-on collision  with emptiness  the font went dry  my left

eyesore  spied my loved one  escaping   all 10 party-people

were close family members


this one left me  mid-sentence  never to be heard from  again

rumour has it   he is now a porn star  in Berlin   fuck him

there was this terrible weighed down feeling   in my chest


mantle of mourning  for former life  rife with  concerts  libraries

+the temple of Gehry  making out with strangers in cafes

much sashay


old age is not an obscure rumour

except for in the

first two thirds of life

when it’s a cry for help


Summer 2022  ..okay okay..don’t get all depressed..


birdwoman of west queen west

it took weeks to get used to   birdsong

dawnchirpings  screech  howls  bit of baying

hounds the new de riguer dog  of creeping  hipsters


of which my hood is full           too


now the fucked cacophony melds with that of life

a cacoph so base  it inspires little  but as the sailors

like to say:  the darkest hour’s  just before dawn  eh



Summer 2022  ..don’t touch deadbirds..or shamey..

i’d rather be a hammer than norman

a giant hawk cruised me at the cemetery  as i

visited my father Lee  i left him a snake + a few

pigs    griefstrick  + holeyhearted


his bone-mulch rests in holy-ground


my BIG BRO  was shovelled under a tree  he wasn’t

fond of consecrated land  ie., sold many a swamp in

Florida   + worried about being  urinated on


hawks are death-harbingers


for whom does the bell toll?  my 98 yr. old mother?

so ready to travel  or  me?  i who am moving toward

this concept


this death-thing


clinging to pleasure  cool mornings  +kishka la toni

(from my favourite deli)   woe is me  this as my mother’s

new caregiver  pines for her former patient


so recently deceased


when mother goes missing   Mercy’s voice  pitiful  +

gutwrench  shouts  Norman  Norman  Norman!   to

which my mother   rarely answers



Summer 2022  ..el covid pasa..🦇



don’t know what u got til it’s gone

losing a sibling  an amputation

losing a parent  a natural disaster

losing yourself  a slow trickle  then tidal


at 45  a man gave me a gun

shoot yourself

or i shoot u

no way out  work mortgage the odd opera

treadmill  vaginawasteland  +phoenixenvy


at 65  a tent proffered  by lone lumberjack

ie., grizzlypegger  husband # 3  teaching me

survival skills  which i sorely need


these days of scorched covid earth  +mother’s

death watch   but is she really dying   or just

living the dream?   row   row   fucking  row



Summer of …inferno…putrifactio…+ascension?


we looked at each other  mother+daughter

in a  wtf  kind of way  ie., wtf are we doing here?

HERE  in a refurbished retirement home   up

bathurst street’s  ass


to be frank


we  2 former beauty queens   now silverhaired

mystic  +desiccate   98+65    all dappled skin

appaloosa   +superpositive!



Summer of Coming To Grips  ..soon stardust..💥💥

the rising

his mother died in a river  his father in a

burning bed  he was Cree  8 yrs old   and

my client


as we discussed Kurt Cobain’s suicide  head

blown off  at 27   he said:  therapist  we can’t

know that 


at some point i stopped trying to convince him

+let the wisdom of his words land   this as the

wonderwoman doll he played with   EXPLODED!


legs fell off  arms went flying  play therapy

bomb-revelation  a life without revelation is

a life  not worth living


his  we can’t know this  revelation  was perfect   +gnome

as my mentor Sharansky said: most suicides are

in reality  attempts   gone wrong


take Anna Karenina’s death  the train she lays

in wait for  is upon her  as she tries to stand up

but it’s too late   the train has it’s way with her


the bullet  with Kurt Cobain  we can never know

who will rise up in those long last moments   my

suicide-rescue  seemed to


though did she really?  or is this woman a ghostly

doppelganger   masquerading as the one  who

desperate +bug-eyed   swallowed    +swallowed




…at the same moment she was horrified at what she was doing..

what am i doing? why? ..she wanted to rise.. but something huge

and implacable pushed at her head and dragged over her…forgive

me for everything!    (Anna Karenina  Leo Tolstoy  1878)



Summer of BA.5

distilled hell


the distillery district in TO  now a subkitch hell

where i went with  the scott  for an idyll   after

being caught  on a snaking urbanparkway  all

inching turbines  +near head-on


i realized  life is not a beach  it’s a bitch  a wildbitch

medusadream    10 headed    longing  many dogs  a

few horses  1 rabbit  with a bruised head


hare of the dogs


but seriously  daydreams about beach towns are

hazardous to health  ditto traversing said towns in

search of something lost   paradise found




lost city mariner walks in cropcircles  around prettylittle

heritage by the sea  OK!  enough with popeyesailor dreams

mother dementing  on top floor of rez  where workers think

dancing with depressed denizens   heals all


heel dementing dogs! heel!


i lay here like a dog  she says  +says   a new take on Faulkner’s

As I Lay Dying  but let us cut the crap  there is still ample time

to walk into a happy ending


all  fresh zen  hopestruck

+ terribly constipated


I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire. . . . I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it. Because no battle is ever won.   (William Faulkner  The Sound+The Fury 1929)


Dog Days of Summer  2022

sittin way up high

as i described her to husband #3  he gazed

longingly  +febrile   she twentysomething +moorish

skin smooth +gormless


breasts riding high  like in that song  u know the one

she has the same name as a lugubrious nephew  who

needs a girl   sans edges


because edges shred hearts  +have even been known

to penetrate soulholes  most violently  i myself lean toward

edges   #3 a reliquary of my piercings


but he loves me

like a rock

SM his proclivity


these young buddingbitches  crawling all over one another

and him   in our hood   however what i do not see  is  depth

in the eyes


more shallow pools of sweetlust  for hipster boys  with

rank beards  +a side of rona   but i love the girls of summer

like my own lost libido


squandered somewheres

on the road

to nowheresville



Summer of Lerv

back away from me slowly

when was it that i came to care about

chipped china


a shantytown

in which to die


now feral+zara  i wait for the 7th wave (?)

the pestilence hiding in plainsight  to bite

the lard asses of  the 2 Neanderthals  i

encountered yesterday


all   toxic masculine

on the outside

and rotting pussy

on the inside


their repartee: (to masked poet on the TTC)

don’t worry he won’t give u covid!

did u hear the one about the woman they tested

they found out she’s pregnant  and u know where

they had to stick it !!


enduring this after a 2hr pulmonary extravaganza

in an enclosed booth  with a millennial respirologist

who i had to drop kick in the cunt


OK  i’ve been degraded  humiliated  +isolated

i have clearance to use the C word people !



Summer 2022 go play in traffic..


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