Monday, August 25, 2008

Humungo News!

An exciting development for me: I won the H.R. (Bill) Percy Novel Prize for my novel (Living in the Dirt/Drive-by Saviours) in the Atlantic Writing Competition!

This is hopefully a big step toward finding a publisher.

Check out http://www.writers.ns.ca/pr25Aug08.html for details.

I will receive my prize and give a reading at a Gala Celebration of Writers and Writing next month.

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Tuesday, August 12, 2008

At The Old Salvation

It's amateur hour at the Old Salvation
We're upchucking our distillations
There's a lady crying in consternation
We're all dying of anticipation
waiting on a better day

We're all agreed on this world of bleeders
it's not what we wanted and we feel cheated
but we're over-run by false-hearted leaders
control-freaks and bottom-feeders
while we search for better ways

Dancing is our only relief from living
We soothe our guilt with token-giving
drown our tears with libation tipping
shred our souls with fake-sex stripping
waiting for the final play

Happy hour comes at half past middle
Good and evil duel it out on the fiddle
Jello shooters kill us a little
As we wipe away each other's spittle
we drink to the loss of pain

When morning arrives 48 hours later
we're devoid of love and lost our haters
Some surrender to instinct and be-come maters
a new generation emerges much later
and soon it too will pray

Pray for the loss of pain
Pray for the final play
Pray for better ways
Pray for a better day

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Sunday, August 10, 2008

Heat

You feel like Dante's innermost circles have risen around me
shown themselves to be playgrounds and creatively wacky theme parks,
pogo sticks on trampolines

You give me vertigo and soothe that fear with targeted foot rubs
slow my heart rate to a post sauna tingle, when the skin is crystal clean,
and satin smooth

It's a bizarro anticipation for what has already been, because spinning
old is new again, same old conversations make us sweat again, solitude scary
as birth again

Same sense of separation, don't fear; though fear is natural as conflict
In death, chaos, and survival know that you are adored, treasured, wanted
because

You feel like Satan's fall was never intended, that it never mattered
just a joy-ride, a bare bones pleasure cruise, under low hanging candy
and whipped cream

where there is no entertainment but what we create together
This is how you feel when I remember you here, when my mind is ready
and my body can be put at ease.

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