a little pick-me-up from the spam filter (found poetry)

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sometimes what happens is this (yoyo amour)

reckless love bloody love long-distance love tractor tire love toasted marshmallow love front-page headline love runnymede station love snowstorm love ocean deep love crankshaft love starbucks love forest fire love flower-power hippy love underwater camera love candy apple love restless love watermelon love muddy creek love comfortable sweater love moonbeams in a jar love up against the wall redneck mothers love faithless love three-cheese pizza love niagara falls in a barrel love kitchen dancing love frank sinatra love melted butter on toasted bagel love drive-in movie chocolate milkshake love love love ode to joy love casablanca love don’t keep her waiting love dirty limerick love banjo mango love sad forest love porch swing love pointy leather shoes love burger & fries love zydeco love average tangerine dream love hudson’s bay blanket love ya get what i’m try-na say, love?

aunt ramona’s resplendent revenge pudding

first draft, SAGA, july 2003 @ PRC
prompt: malvern pudding recipe, the stone diaries (carol shields)

take 6 slices of stale lust
half a cup of infidelity
shred a pound of malice leaves
and soak together in brine of contempt.

add a dash of resentment
2 teaspoons disgust
a quarter-cup mistrust
2 slabs of hostility
and one 14-ounce can of bad manners.
shake with indifference and set aside.

in separate bowl, blend 2 parts regret
with 1 shot of arrogance
4 tablespoons jealousy, 8 degrees of anxiety
and a pinch of fear.
stir furiously and baste onto halfshell of broken dreams.

pour contents of first bowl into large, pre-annoyed skillet.
simmer until all reason has evaporated,
scorching all but the last remnants of hope.
cover and stifle in 375-degree oven for 45 minutes
or until the cook’s pitcher of margaritas has been devoured.

remove from oven; uncover and let grumble for 10 minutes.
season liberally with coarsely chopped denial, diced rudeness
and extract of adultery.
salt and pepper to taste.

serves the bastard right.


*best eaten in separate dwellings;

*grated cheese or sour cream may be added to cut bitterness;
*can be ignored in refrigerator for up to 12 years; also freezes well.

what if

what if the moon never showed you its charms
what if it took someone else in its arms
what if these oceans, what if your eyes
what if i can’t find cute boots in my size?
what if next-door wants their lawnmower back
what if the dog joins an urban wolf pack
what if they dig up our mountain ash tree
what if the language police come for me
what if the cardinals eat the last cherry
what if the rhythms of love never vary?
what would you say to a walk on the shore
would you bashfully smile if i asked you for more
where could we hide if i ditched off from work
would we sneak to a place with a smug hotel clerk
would we sip from each other and roll off the bed
would we bang-shang-a-lang on sheets satin and red
and what of our nakedness, robust and sassy
what of rose petals, bourbon, and oysters, first-classy!
what if the husbands came home early and found
their huge boring houses had burned to the ground

E-Town Top 30, #6: Canada Day fireworks

For those of you just joining us, this list features
a selection of my favourite Edmonton things …
in an attempt to remind myself why I continue to live here despite the seriously unfriendly winters.
(And yes, I grudgingly admit that so far, this current version is Not Too Bad.) Today’s offering: The annual Canada Day fireworks display.

I am privileged to have access to a 14th-floor condo balcony overlooking the river valley right by the High Level Bridge, so these photos of various July 1 night-sky bedazzlements were taken from arguably the best seat in the house. I’ll let them tell the story. (NOTE: Best viewed while eating brie and sipping wine and laughing at all the little people standing in the mile-long lineup for mini-donuts at Ezio Farone Park.)

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All photos (C) Laurie MacFayden