hobo.poetics
[21/30] a cinquain

waking
beside your form
sets my tone for the day
no matter what comes, it begins
happy

[20/30] god fishing

{for Robert Priest & Johnny MacRae}

god farming has received
a significant amount of interest
due to the overall trend of
increasing god prices
alongside reducing wild catches

god produces a million eggs
in order that one may reach maturity
pre-spawning courtship
involves male god grunting
the pelvic fins of god are small

god is popular as a food
god livers are processed
to make god liver oil

god has been an important economic commodity
in international markets since the viking period
the basques played an important role in the god trade
in the 17th and 18th centuries in the new world
god became a major commodity, creating trade networks
and cross-cultural exchanges
three god wars were fought
in the north atlantic during the 50s and 70s

in 2000 the WWF put god on the endangered species list
they issued a report stating the global god catch had suffered
a 70% drop over the last 30 years, and if this trend continued,
the world’s god stocks would disappear in 15 years
it has been said the north atlantic was once so full of god
that people might be able to walk on water

god and related species are plagued by parasites

[19/30] lazarus jewel box

your heart is a lazarus jewel box
opening to the smoke of the sagebrush
whenever the fires have burned hottest
there may be ashes, but there is no dust

[18/30] (untitled)

love was needed

you all sought answers and
asked questions countless times
troubling those memories forgotten
becoming myths

~

myths becoming forgotten memories
those troubling times
countless questions asked
and answers sought

all you needed
was love

[17/30] The Bluffs of Galiano

Standing atop an island,
Looking to the west,
It was the random local drunkard
Who summed it up the best:

When pressed for commentary
He boisterously confessed,
"Though the Pass finds itself Active
It is we who are the blessed.”

[16/30] sailing away from vancouver

the salt sprayed air trades itself in
for nicotine and diesel
on the tongues of sunset travelers
port is on the starboard side
as sun paints the illusion
of setting upon the clouds
it’s harder to find wonder
in the familiar
perhaps that’s why
it’s more important to look

days go by when days go by
and feel like fleeting moments
(stay present)
not every day is just like this
even when they seem just like this
it’s all a trick of the light
casting itself off the blinders
we build for ourselves

now the ocean tastes like
a memory of cigarettes
and the birdsong
has bartered itself
into windblown reverberations
of all the straps binding
this illusion together

cue the dulcet tones of robots
reassuring everyone
that everything will be okay
this is safe
you should buy things
pay little attention
to the ocean we’re crossing
or, pay us more
and you can have a better view
it’s up to you
monopoly’s a choice

none of this matters
to the islands who swim
slower than the human age
imperceptible movement
draped behind the skirting
swimmers moving faster than
our attention spans
we are not the only travelers
on this highway
not all wandering
can be done on roads

galiano doesn’t look
as much like a penis
when viewed a couple
floors up from sea level

the sun drops out
from below the clouds
punctuating the excitement
of this active pass

[15/30] empathizing

i too once lost my metaphors
in a simile fashion

[14/30] a ruba’i

retiring, an exhausted poet
before dreams, beside you, a still omen
in an old hotel room with no bible
all time with you is a holy moment

[13/30] my prolapsed chakras

my prolapsed chakras
enlightenment overdose
oozing with colour

[12/30] chirrups

fall asleep in one year,
wake up in another
i’m a sucker for inertia
it gets me every time.

sometimes this island feels like an island
the wind goes to 11
today can pretty much blow me.

there’s a busy world
on a busy street
outside this slow quiet home.
i’d rather be playing carcassonne.

yesterday i went a full day without music,
just to see if i could
if you’re lost in the woods with dog,
just follow its shit trails homeward.

cynicism saves lives.

congratulations maskwacis 
on officially ridding yourselves 
of the hobbema legacy.
not sure how I feel about w.p. kinsella.

i don’t think it’s such a good influence 
on people to have mr. cohen telling us 
there is crack in everything. 
it could turn into trouble.

violent shades of happiness.

i can only handle talking to robots
on the phone for so long
before going batshit crazy.
what do blueberries and açaí berries
have against oxidants anyway?

it’s not dark outside, just morose.
who needs a lunar eclipse when
you can have overcast wind instead?

if there’s no such thing as a free lunch
i’m currently living a lie
in a hotel room with no bible
waking up to rage against the machine
impotent rage is really the best kind
—it can’t reproduce!

here comes the hotstepper
there are few things more unsettling
than having a leper give you the finger

gravity, wow.