bear bones

art and poetry from British Columbia, Canada artist Oiseau: in the poet's room

the carver

You have a nice bum, he said,
and promised to carve
me a baby out of ebony, a feather
and a baby to hang down
together. I hold my own
knife, however, and odd
feathers hover, waiting
for glue - dusty on the
dashboard, squashed
in my pack, or pocketed

You don't really want to be a bird,
he said, and I feel the tug
on flight feathers blood-tied
in place of nails, I flex my
fingers, tip downwards, catch
a little bit of the evening.

Black shavings curl from the
cut, I say, the heart
of a baby, the no-words
place between doors out
and doors in.

I might not be staying.

Contact Oiseau: General Delivery, Argenta, BC, Canada, V0G 1B0
The art on this page is a detail from the single copy book "To Bind a Villanelle," monoprint, 2005, nfs





turning pages:

on acceptance

on Faithful and Howe


song of the misdressed

this spring's channels

to bind a villanelle