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Monday, December 30, 2002


it may seem i ramble on about
trivial matters,
but no matter what happens,
life will always make no sense to me.

i am not being negative.
there is beauty in life.
but i admit if i am not waking up now,
it will happen in a matter of days.

my mother is not well.
this is the most important issue in my life.
one's mother's well-being should always
be this though.

Thursday, December 19, 2002


one day i will wake up.

hey vacuum land!
this is an open call.

• • •

i always have maintained that my
favourite food is fondue.
i am not really fond of a cheese fondue.
however i love a raclette.

it is a pity that there isn't a more dignified
word for cheese in English.

also, i am not crazy about chocolate fondue.

fondue is more of a culinary novelty than
a delicacy. but it elicits an excitement in
me so that is why i call it my favourite dish.

• • •

water started dripping from my bathroom fan.
luckily i am home and was able to put a bucket
underneath it.
could this be the cause of my mysterious
soaking wet bathroom carpets i have come
home to a coppola times in the past few months?

i went upstairs to inquire if there had been a
spill or something. it is late but i heard movement.
met my new neighbour.
i think he said his name is Michael.
this entry could help me remember his name.

• • •

saw a wonderful Swiss film last night
called "The Frozen Heart" by Xavier Koller.
it was set in the winter alps of switzerland.
so beautiful.

• • •

so not to disturb
the silent night and sleeping
snowman they fly on

• • •

as i age my vocabulary weakens
and can't find the words i want
to make images like those i tried
in the entry below.

and as time goes on what i see
is less composed of images
than objects that exist outside my
sphere of giving a shit about them.

everything seems forced.

• • •

i have forgiven all my sins.

snow's back and i'm melting
and every morning we rise

and every morning we rise
the road and all paths still point north

brittle web-like remains of leaves
whisk along the grey roads

permafrost buildings and vapour trails
behind cars and peoples voices
like horses


watershed makes canyon walls damp
treacherous lichens grow
wind front is brushing your forehead

later.
...bedtime.

Thursday, December 12, 2002


i dreamt with burning sensations in my sinus
last night and awoke this morning at seven
to an apartment filled with smoke. i had placed
my breadboard on a stovetop element which
must have been turned on for days as i have not
used my stove for awhile. there was a hole
burnt through the thick board revealing part
of the glowing panel of ember on its underside.
it was serene and magical in the dark of winter
morning. i was mesmerised, too lazy to move.
staring into a campfire on a summer night.
waiting for the smoke to switch direction and
cease its path to my nostrils.
i smell like woodstove today at work.
my place and everything in it smells the same.
i was going to save the stinking thing to
photograph tonight but realised there was
no good point in that or having a visual
reminder of my neglect and stupidity.
this entry should be enough.
i am grateful to be alive.

Monday, December 09, 2002


it is less quiet in the city
and the rain runs thicker
and it seems that where there is
smaller concentrations of people
there is less distrust.

when i leave where i live
to calmer shores
that distant rumble in my ear intensifies.

could this mean i need to move to larger
and more impersonal cities to stay sane?

am i not on a holiday?
at least until the morning?

Saturday, December 07, 2002


i am convinced the malaise and disinterest
i feel for life is shared by many more
people than we let on.

it is endemic.
most people have lost hope.

Friday, December 06, 2002


fixed the flat.
forgot to check the tire for embedded glass and had another flat.
nearly died avoiding glass again on the viaduct.

today we re-enacted the play and dance scene
from charlie brown's christmas.
i played snoopy.
it will be seen on national television.
i sniffed pigpens ass.

Wednesday, December 04, 2002


been busy.

took mother out for birthday sushi.
met rick mercer.
went to canada's poet laureate's house.
i recorded him reciting haikus on the tibook.
snuck in a coppola mine!
he ripped them to shreds.

an honour.

had a flat tire