Sun washes upon
the barista's clavicle.
Thursday, lunch was free.

The amandolines
resting on Noritake
perfect consumption

(from the Breakfast Table of Archibald Lampman, 3d edn)

A day of some stress
recedes. I see chocolate
from Mariuca.

(from the Breakfast Table of Archibald Lampman, 3d edn)

Take it to the sea
Under the waves, over them,
summer, salt, water.

(From the Breakfast Table of Archibald Lampman, 3d edn)

Æþnë no longer
Mags and Fags is desolate
dog-ear'd magazines.

(Tales of Persepolis)

Ten at the table
monitoring risk levels
sunny day in June.

Eleven now here.
Risk-level ecstacy fades.
June afternoon, late.

Numbers diminish.
Risk levels evaporate.
Outside, setting sun.

(from the Song of the Bureaucrat, Vol III)

Swift's sea-foam guitar
a languid hand gestures to us
Wakefield, Saturday.

(from The Breakfast Table of Archibald Lampman, 3d edn)

Campari Iceland
so scarlet, floating in debt.
Peach juice, Sunday night.

(from Tales of Persepolis)

Patient and waiting
The carousel still silent
Winter travel, nu?



from Tales of Persepolis

Friday night tapas..
Shitake on Noritake
reward for last week.

(from the Song of the Bureaucrat, Vol. III)

Into the furnace
but wearing long underwear
late on Saturday.

(from Tales of Persepolis, crossposted with a Haiku Sanctoral)

Late, after tapas,
a man, walking, falls, and dies;
Lisgar St, Friday.

(from Tales of Persepolis)

Ottawa's small dogs
in liturgical colours.
Gaudete Sunday.

(Haiku Sanctoral)

I turn to my right
A Nobel Peace Prize winner,
stirring oolong tea.

(from Tales of Persepolis)

Through the morning fog
like gorillas in Rwanda...
To our cubicles!

(from The Song of Bureaucrat, Vol III)

The scarlet Lyndell,
fiddle flaming in the light.
Sunday. Ottawa.

(from Tales of Persepolis)

Caught by the snow
contemplating southern skies
our witch meditates.

from Tales of Persepolis

In bumblebee tights,
busking on rue Saint Joseph,
end of October.

from The Québeciad

Shades of elections past
calling to our memories
MacLeod Street, at dusk.

(from Tales of Persepolis)

Meredith Luce sings
but too much guitar volume
drowns out her fine voice.

(from Tales of Persepolis)