This is a partial list...
1> I've downloaded a program off the internet and I can't find the icon for it.
2> My neighbour slammed his door and a picture fell off the wall in my house.
3> Some kids were throwing rocks at my house at 3AM. (this at 10:30AM)
4> "Everybody's fighting". I envisioned a brawl. When the guys got there, "everybody" turned out to be two very intoxicated females who were the only occupants of the house.
However. The Iqaluit CBC radio station called to ask my boss about 'shots fired' in town. Ok. So for all the above shit you call me, and for the shots fired you call the radio??? (for the record, it wasn't shots... fireworks)
Lots of weird things are happening now, aren't they? Frogs are not yet falling from the sky, I grant you that. But give them time, the frogs, give them time. --William Leith
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Monday, August 04, 2008
Eclipse
Waking sweaty, ears ringing, in my blanket nest
Jumbled half light in the cabin
It’s 2am.
At the door, you ask our plans
Ultimately, death
I say, I think
Tell myself I’m still asleep
Smoky haze on the horizon
Behind the lake
Candy-pink edges the only proof
Of the sun, spinning before the eclipse
Despite my flippancy
The plan involves treading the spine of Ovayok
(His falling down and dying made a ribbed mountain)
Approaching, half the town
Perches already, or scales the steep sides
I leave you all sprawled
At the top of the first rise
Keep going
Wind, warm animal breath from the head
Damp and alive
Tugs my clothes, whistles in my coat
Passing those I know
(Hey, Kate)
And those I don’t
Smile anyway
It’s their mountain
As I approach, one woman turns from contemplation
Kate. What time does it start?
I look at my watch but I already know the answer. Now.
The answer confuses. The sun hides.
Past scattered inukshuks and teenagers
Eyes slide away
Don’t know where I’m going or why
I need to walk but the
wind keeps blowing against
me and some watchers are
higher still and
then the sun stops.
I turn around.
Suddenly everything is downhill fast
and the light is grey
and then I’m in Ovayok’s belly button
in the middle of the night
with a whole bunch of people
and it’s dark.
Jumbled half light in the cabin
It’s 2am.
At the door, you ask our plans
Ultimately, death
I say, I think
Tell myself I’m still asleep
Smoky haze on the horizon
Behind the lake
Candy-pink edges the only proof
Of the sun, spinning before the eclipse
Despite my flippancy
The plan involves treading the spine of Ovayok
(His falling down and dying made a ribbed mountain)
Approaching, half the town
Perches already, or scales the steep sides
I leave you all sprawled
At the top of the first rise
Keep going
Wind, warm animal breath from the head
Damp and alive
Tugs my clothes, whistles in my coat
Passing those I know
(Hey, Kate)
And those I don’t
Smile anyway
It’s their mountain
As I approach, one woman turns from contemplation
Kate. What time does it start?
I look at my watch but I already know the answer. Now.
The answer confuses. The sun hides.
Past scattered inukshuks and teenagers
Eyes slide away
Don’t know where I’m going or why
I need to walk but the
wind keeps blowing against
me and some watchers are
higher still and
then the sun stops.
I turn around.
Suddenly everything is downhill fast
and the light is grey
and then I’m in Ovayok’s belly button
in the middle of the night
with a whole bunch of people
and it’s dark.