something to write about

This is why
as fingers meet keyboard
cravings release all that's stored
in feelings about things and what's more,

I'm
listening and searching for 
one more reason to walk through that door [and]
one more way to hit the floor.

So
like a leap in this ballet
like an act in this play
like another rule to disobey; [I'm]

Obsessed [with]
thinking about every rhyme
counting every beat and line [and I won't stop]
measuring every word not mine.

With
courage that's drained from pens 
fear that tries to cleanse
compulsion that wants to end [making it]

Impossible
to creep up upon without scaring
to leave unturned stones despairing
to notice life without caring [that]

Things
never get better without the fight
rarely become clearer without some light [and]
often once found take flight.

a favoured over-estimation

Calmness leads to claws
flexing, with eyes 
closed or keenly
narrowed and fixed on
the sleightness of
disturbed air between
my incoming finger tip 
and his whiskers or 
incisors. 

An assumed cute boop 
results in bloodshed 
or rough abrading licks,
my hand or his meal
depends on whose needs
prevail. 

A strange noticing 
paralyzes my next
action, any reaction
either way, staying in 
or leaving his clutch
will be painful and
forgotten and 
forgiven before
dinner time. 

Regardless, I assume 
ownership of him, 
his care, and any 
injury that results
from loving him as
I do. 

Aidan’s ethical dilemma

‘Nobody likes grape!’
I leaned out from behind my car,
a whirlwind approached.
‘Doesn’t matter!’ Another voice answered 
from somewhere across the lot. 
‘If it’s not in stock, then it’s not in stock!’
The rain had picked up. 
‘…not my point. 
Not disagreeing but...
not my problem to tell customers 
about inventory issues.'
My person paused beside my driver side door 
then added-
‘It's Mike’s job to make sure people know.’
He checked his device. 
It blurped quizzically. 
‘You Chris Cluff?’
I nodded and tried to find my opinion 
about grape flavouring.
A fading voice continued-
‘NOT worth it. Why d’you have a beef 
with Mike over this? It’s not worth it.’
He looked at me for a second then
got to unpacking the goods. 
Items moved quickly 
into the back of my vehicle.
He was deciding something, then offered- 
‘Mike is our manager.’
His tablet pinged again. 
'He ordered too much grape.'
The device's pleas were muffled. Distant. 
'He doesn't want the head manager to know.'
Aidan had set it inside a red crate, 
while he was emptying a green crate.
'So we are supposed to sub grape for lime
and tell the customer that we are out of stock.'
Now a blue crate sat on top of the red. 
There was momentary panic, 
I pointed to the bottom box. 
Relief, then-
‘You got one of the last lime Bubly.’
He pronounced it Bublé 
and smiled to himself. 
‘The next client that orders lime
will get a sub of grape instead.’
Non issue for me. 
'Even though we got stock.'
I waited for more,
then filled the silence-
'Dude I am good with grape or lime.
It's all the same to me.'
It definitely wasn't the same for him.
He was dismayed.
With a sigh he advised-
'It ain't right.'
And left.

Tamar wasn’t having it

'Name?'
Was the first and last thing
he said to me.
I answered.
And as I began to offer more,
he turned and got to work.
My schedule was out of order.
Stopping mid week to 
pick up groceries
was humbling.
Time is never regained
once lost.
Sunday I was distracted.
I missed items.
So, here I am;
at a new store,
a Wednesday interloper,
with a new person.
I guess, I am the
new person too.
Tamar stopped suddenly
and looked out over
an adjacent field.
The parking lot butted up against 
a promised expansion 
of some store 
currently in the plaza.
It was puddled and 
strewn with broken things; 
fencing, floes of Styrofoam,
patches of grass,
shattered adolescent
tree trunks.
In the distance,
a hypertensive highway 
teemed with commuters.
The dull crashing of crates 
snapped my attention back 
to task.
Tamar was already in motion,
returning to the depot.
At the warehouse door
he threw one more
glance over his shoulder 
at the chaotic field,
shook his head, 
and entered.

terra incognita

So much empty space
with no centre,
no start
each step might take
you closer to a point
or away from your
destination. 

Each post you plant
tethers you, 
each tack placed in this
map
only serves to show
its largeness. 

Its all distraction-
a leaf,
that sky,
some sounds,
your thoughts,
and a feeling that
each glimmer is there
for you alone. 

To look directly at
one specific thing
is impossible
you will need to
capture release 
then capture again
to keep your attention
fixed. 

Inadequate luggage
carries meaning 
no farther 
than the next step
then it is unpacked and
repacked before moving 
on somehow fuller,
wider, heavier. 

Bread crumbs trail from
carry ons,
curious birds follow
chirping who are you?
and where are you heading?
but staying just
distant enough to escape
the clutch and scrutiny. 

I sometimes feel
like the hunter 
in a forest that
does not regard me
as a threat
in fact
it does not
regard me at all. 

But lifting that rock, 
even a centimetre 
from the ground will 
result in resistance, 
small green living creatures
will tug and try 
to bring that rock 
back to ground.

Insignificant things 
have their own gravity 
and to not consider
their animus
is foolish
and greedy. 

Just because
we can see each 
starry pin point
in the night sky
we have no right
to reach out
and touch
them. 

Janice has to stay late

I could tell at ‘hello’ that the day was not going well. 

My groceries barreled towards me.

The green, red, and blue crates bounced drunkenly as she approached.  

She let go of the handle and the cart continued to roll and barely winced when the rusted corner smashed into her calf. 

Without pause she launched. 

‘Day was average until 30 minutes ago. Then it went to shit.’

I grimaced then sympathized. 

‘It got hot out. Must make it tougher to hustle in and out of the store. Ya know, with the temperature change.’

I was struggling. 

She knew it. 

This moment has played out before. 

I check in, I get engaged, I get chatty then realize I do not have enough story to navigate the waters. 

It’s not that I misread the moment, more like a stumble. 

The jolt of being brought directly into the center of the story at light speed was jarring and raw, without recovery time.

‘The kid that is suppose to come on at 4:00 called in, he’s not coming into work.’

I want to commiserate. That happened to me countless times when I was running restaurants. 

There’s no chance to respond. 

‘My manager will expect me to stay longer… without asking specifically. He can’t actually make me stay though.’ 

She stared at me, dead-eyed, nodding, willing me to take a side.

I remembered that moment too. 

My boss would avoid a direct question.  

He would say things like, ‘We gotta all pull together.’

And that he would, ‘Remember our commitment.’

‘I won’t stay this time.’ She promises over her shoulder. 

I want to believe her. 

But. 

I stayed every time. 

And each time I swallowed a bait-less hook without hesitation.