HALIBUT

Sound is an independent ingredient … It’s an additional cinematic quality. I like scratches too. They look like rain.               — Dušan Makavejev I try to write about a one-night stand, but all I can remember are the whisky-drunk gropes and your name set on the night table along with your keys. One got lost in the dark. The other fell to the floor and was found by morning. A poet from the Ming dynasty writes about a one-night stand. The poet includes the fleeting happiness of the moment, the salinity of separation, and the dipping moon. The night is audible, as heard by the clock striking midnight, and the mandarin ducks down by the water that grind against each other until all the plum flowers are gone . Gillian Sze -from Panicle (ECW Press 2017)

Posy, poésie --  Who will drink wine of pressed cyclamens! Tomasina Salmon

I want us to be together forever condom on a glue-stick Phil Hall Otty Lake 2017

snowfall warning in effect almost a grouse of snow has fallen so far Brenda Schmidt

One tonne of feathers/ eight pounds of stardust. Baby, now what do I do? Kateri Lanthier

What I didn’t record of you will die with people who I will never meet. Perhaps a step-brother took one shot in a home movie where you spoke, probably mumbling, probably looking down and away from the camera. Maybe directly into the lens, laughing over what you said so it’s unintelligible.  I’ve never seen it.     sparrow bobs     a beeline is the line     a cat makes Pearl Pirie Read Got News, Part 1 and Part 2

A friend once asked me why I would want to devote my entire life to writing haiku. I could tell by her tone of voice that what she really was asking was why I would want to waste my entire life writing haiku. I told her that I wrote haiku because I did not feel that I was capable of attaining enlightenment by serving tea.            the first snow            if I write it disappears            the first snow Marco Fraticelli

new year’s day making the same old roast forever in the afterlife Yoko's Dogs

You can’t order take out for your husband and the pigs. You comb your daughter's long golden hair. Where are they going, the stars? Tomasina Salmon