I wake to the sound of unclipped claws scratching against my wooden door. A quiet moan comes from just outside my bedroom. I roll over and turn on my side light –yellow light falling across my skin. It makes me look sickly. I ease out...
[audio mp3="http://www.queensquilt.ca/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/put-aside.mp3"][/audio]
Trickles of rain upon the canvas roof,
Gentle rappings paired with the crackle of flames devouring poplar,
The smell of rotting leaves covered in moisture creeps in from the outside.
The thermos is set on a crumbling log
Through the parted canvas, put aside for later.
The reminder of...
[audio mp3="http://www.queensquilt.ca/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/sing-o-sweet-winged-creature.mp3"][/audio]
sing! o sweet, winged creature
of the endless sky beyond our darkened caverns.
as we venture further into the oppressive earth;
pickaxes and helms caked with decay,
your sacred song sows our home back into the dirt:
tales of the azure wild,
of gods that trail along ocean floors,
yielding their...
[audio mp3="http://www.queensquilt.ca/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/i-will-raise-my-Babygirl.mp3"][/audio]
As a child, I would cling to her arm. Both my hands wound tightly around her muscle; skin that sunk and sagged from gravity fifteen years too early. My dad looks at photos of her from their twenties and tells me, “This is how...
[audio mp3="http://www.queensquilt.ca/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/redamancy.mp3"][/audio]
They marry on a Sunday evening, with no witnesses but the birds in the trees and the stars in the sky.
The valley is quiet. A soft summer breeze ruffles the leaves of the willow tree the pair has found shelter under, the brook murmurs...
[audio mp3="http://www.queensquilt.ca/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/year-of-the-rat.mp3"][/audio]
They burrow too deep within the earth to know nothing, says the rat man. He wears on him the appearance of the witch Rasputin, and it is witchcraft indeed that he performs. The rats had for a time forced me to divert from my...
Posted at 19:25h
in
Creative,
Poetry,
Volume 3
I have recorded a love blind as faith
opaque and unwavering.
Love – she simmers out of sight while devotees
come to her doors.
They’ll call her forth: knees purple,
heads drawn to the floor reverently.
Rooted in rows as the play of sacrifice drones on at the altar,
an evisceration of...
Tonight, a buzzing, tingling, familiar fear takes root in my abdomen and shivers up my spine.
The moon outside is creamy and dapples the insides of my eyelids with twinkling white lights.
She is woeful: that single, bright eye, harbour of the listless and witness of secrets,
But...
Posted at 19:05h
in
Academic,
Volume 3
In “Diving into the Wreck” by Adrienne Rich and “Pearl Diver” by Mitski, the speaker narrates a deep-sea dive during which the diver undergoes a shift in identity as a result of a quest. The speaker in each text describes the dive, drawing lines of...
He never walks by. He could always walk by. I don’t forget that.
Behind the curtains, my mind runs his voice through my brain. This street is empty, and I am pale behind my curtains. He never walks by, but he’ll never see what’s in the...