TAMARA FAIRCHILD (Iqaluit, Nunavut)

Death Dream

You were right about the end, my love. You called it. I should never have doubted that

our neighbour’s worst impulses would finally impale reason and compassion with pitchforks.

Uncle Sam was always a bit of a bully, and never my favourite, but he was still sort of family.

For years he was a roadside attractcident drawing us in despite ourselves. He was Vegas, neon

unreality, a guy with too many guns talking a big game & dropping by with deplorable friends, a

crazy, small town, big city patriot, with some beautiful dreams and a fatal attraction to nut jobs.

Knowing where it ends changes the past like learning your teacher was a child molester.

If I could do it again, I wouldn’t laugh. I wouldn’t blithely toss off the ugly as a foil for my superiority.

Now, I regret my irony, my naïve belief that progress is permanent. I regret my complacency as truth

gave way to truthiness, then accelerated into post-truth until we stared slack-jawed in disbelief.

Democracy was stolen by a clown from a nightmare so bad we haven’t even imagined it yet.

I’m afraid. America isn’t too big to fail. It’s under attack by a cheeto godzilla, as yuge as it is stupid,

crushing everything good with greed and directionless spite. Can we lucid dream our way out of

kakistocracy? Time will tell if this government by a parade of the worst people will be fascist

warmongers, a kleptocratic dictatorship, another vile variety of corruption and decaying pus or

all of the above. While tiny hands tweet death rays with weaponized Twitter, republican Jesus is

dropping bombs on the poorest and weakest. This is the American Dream. This is me waking up.

JENNIFER BAKER (Ottawa)

NATALIE HANNA (Ottawa)

niobe’s slaughter

yearly, gray mother reblooms like a peacock

on the day i became for her.

[unlucky though, hubris, in our petty lives]

felt before seen, a growling, an

underweight firstborn begged from the sky

conspicuous calm, then later tempest of coarse doing

kicking at the dainty teeth of life.

in the days since you rose in the west, blinding orange sun

now she says in tinned telephone voice:

 girl, have i not cause for pride? but i am begging

 don’t be this political, don’t draw them down with fight

 if it’s peace you want from these tidy new bigots.

curses come modern of color and cunt, skill and loving

killjoy genus, species feminist

walking under the eye of new jealous gods’ zealots

affronted by the extra-familial – we have only only the old

dead democracy’s lullabies.

JASON HEROUX (Kingston, Ontario)

LOUDSPEAKER
 

You’re a device      always channeling      one electrical signal

over another      into a sound      loud enough      to be heard

uptown      you came to get down      jump around      get some

feeling      we’re all devices      powered by impulses      we don’t

understand      what we’re saying      or hearing      you don’t

care      what we’re thinking      say what you like      do you

know      if anyone is listening      loudspeaker      your voice

is up for grabs      play what you want      the future is under

new management      we don’t know why      new snow keeps

getting stuck in old snow       waiting for friends      to come

dig it up      with their shovels      or why a dying battery loves

its toy      even though it won’t play      or why the moon loves

channeling      its lonesomeness      through our bones      who

knows if riot dogs      are barking I LOVE YOU      at the crowd

whoever wants      to be happy      must do it now      if someone

alerts us      to leave the premises      tell them we came      to get

down      we came to get down      not to give up      jump around.

LAURA FARINA (Vancouver)

Believe Me

You can be anything you want to be –

Ogled organic farmer

Uninhibited ukelele player

Fondled forest ranger

Up-for-it upholsterer

Curvy chiropractor

Kittenish kitchen manager

Inviting inventor

Nubile neurosurgeon

Groped gas leak inspector

Docile dentist

Impregnated impressionist

Coquettish CEO

Kneeling karate instructor

Willing welder with an 

Ass that won't quit

Demure dog walker.

KEN MCKENZO (Ottawa)

Fuddle-Duddle Drumpf

 

You will not much care, of course

Our fury for your deceits, our frail

Unity rendered dumb and disunited.

 

For your gilt-rusted rage, you martialed

Untoward, unwitting brigades; and

Crowds did sway with indolence,

Knowledge mocking and afraid,

Illiterate to honesty. You grasped at

No greater good except to prod and

Grope the public sphere. You will

 

Deliver no promise but spite

Its remaining decency, hound

Civility into a sad corner, and will

Kick good with bad faith. Still,

We learn anew from anger’s focus

Are goaded by your ‘Great’ brag, you

Dare us this better rage.

VIVIAN VAVASSIS (Ottawa)

You never know when democracy will choke

out a glottal-stopped death rattle

under elliptical bows of grandeur,

fences and steel that stand monolithic

under guile, the guise of greatness.

Can you hear the semantics cast in

knee-jerk frenzy

invoking the hysteria of red states?

Neville never saw the signs

glad-handing in clueless clucks

despite the world realigning 

in desperate coordinates.

Churchill read ciphers like constellations

knowing fragility threads muscle and spirit.

We never saw it coming! Only you kind of knew he'd

ape it, an orange marshmallow man teetering over DC

dancing a bigly toppling jig.