I never felt comfortable within my own skin until thirty, maybe not even then. My childhood dream was simple: survive high school as a closeted gay nerd living in the country, move to Toronto, and cut all ties to my life prior. Having absorbed all the Disney fairy-tales, the basis of my plan was that …
Tag Archives: memories
SEAN
Oh, here where cold meets hot, wet meets dry, stillness of the sand by the drumming of the surf To throw yourself into the wave and unknown and return again and again to the ever-shiftingsame secure shore. Color still vivid as Eden’s first hues riot against white sand blue sky and reddened skin. Helios’ last true …
In the Cathedral: Images & Confessions
Prelude I recently found back something I thought lost for ten years – a collection of poems from my youth, paper copies of my earliest work, when ideas and imagination went merrily unchecked, until at some point they were fewer and fewer between. My brother had scrapped my ancient computer for me, and drilled holes …
Eight years gone
My dearest Squish; Eight fucking years. Hell, baby, I thought I wasn’t going to get to 8 hours, 8 days, 8 weeks without you. I know you come around sometimes. Thanks. It does keep me going at times, when I need that little reminder that it wasn’t all in my head, and what we had …
As always, the 3rd is for hate
I hear you there in the dark spaces, screaming of what you would do if let out of the carefully compartmentalized corners I have placed you in. You raged loose at the world threatening that if you could not have all things beautiful than no one could, oh the hateful things I have heard you …
The Perfect Skate (a true story)
Stretching along the back boundary of the family farm was the bush, a woodlot of mixed trees and wildlife. Widthwise, it wasn’t a long distance until you hit the highway, but lengthwise, one could imagine being in a forest. It had been an unseasonably mild winter with more rain than snow, though still enough to …
The first seventeen years
I could hear the pain in my father’s quiet “oh” as I truthfully explained to him that I did not have any happy memories of growing up on the farm. I do have one or two fuzzy memories that are happy, but they all involve being away from the farm: a sleep over at a …
Psychoterrierpy 