skonen_blades

My back is a forest fire of blown-out birthday candle wishes
I fly a flag of smoke signals behind me up into the sky
The charcoal ghost of a lighthouse
The absent student in my chest
Becoming a mirror that mattresses use for instagram
The orchard in my ribs accordions shut
And wheezes wide like the mouth of a monster
The one-two applause of my heart
Constantly losing its slippery, spasming grip on my blood
The sound of one hand slow clapping
These shotgun shells I use for eyes need watering
To dampen the gunpowder
The world clatters past and around me
A circus of shopping carts and lost pet posters
A new forgiveness needed every day
The spare key is no longer under the doormat
Or the flower pot
And I feel like I’ve become an avid collector of targets
Hoarding them shoplifter under my coat
I feel the sunlight of hope searing my skin with a hiss
The slow roll of my gift-wrapped brain
As it tries to snakeskin out of it
I improvise a few smiles
I try on a few more degrees of glee
It’s not a mess in here on purpose
I’m just trying to throw off the scent
Distracting the hunt too successfully
Like wearing camouflage
When no one’s even looking at you
Saving up for invisibility
When it was given to you years ago for free
I live in a greeting card
Where saving up for a rainy day is impossible
Because it’s raining all the time
Every finish line has ‘jk’ written on the other side
Don’t get me wrong
It’s bearable
It’s beautiful
It definitely has its moments
And I love being here
But patience is too flammable
Fear is too common
Facts are too malleable
And the forest is way too smoky
For anything other than glimpses
Of peace



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A profound thing happened today.
Sonja and Audrey and I had lunch at Save On Meats and decided to walk back home.
The route took us along Hastings past Main.
About a block before Main, walking through the worst of it, someone started bellowing out "KID ON THE BLOCK! KID ON THE BLOCK!" and the shout was taken up down the strip, tent to tent.
Just a few people yelling it out like town criers.
I didn't stare or jump.
Just kept walking.
I didn't even realize it was in regard to Audrey until the second shout.
Anyone fixing that was still compos mentis put their rigs away or at least turned away from the sidewalk.
A few people even watched their language.
A block later passing more tents, I heard it said by a woman in the midst of a cluster of women in a doorway.
I didn’t look to see what was happening or if anything was happening.
I was profoundly moved.
That they'd still look out for a kid.
That they're still present enough to do that.
That they're still humans.
That they still see something as holy.


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And just like every winter morn,
Vancouver did its best
To dampen dreams and moisten schemes
Pacifically Northwest.
I huddled at a bus stop
In this city on the coast.
A drooping, dripping, hunching, haunting
Sullen, soggy ghost.
I disdain umbrellas
But their utility
On days precipitous like this
Becomes quite clear to me.
Unlike the sidewalk-tinted sky
The color leeched to grey
The pavement mimicking the clouds
Its like. It’s dusk. All day.
And then the sound of rain's refrain
A backdrop susurrus
A blanket smothering all sound
With lullabies of “ssshhhh”.
Wet wheels go by on wetter streets
And no one talks to me.
And I dont talk to them. It's cool.
We get wet quietly.
Like overloaded sponges who can't
Soak up any more
Waterlogged and bogged and sogged
We're flooded to the core.
We marinate like human steaks.
We shower in our clothes.
Submerged in turgid waterfalls
Beneath the storm cloud's hose.
I waited here with sopping beard
Saturated thus,
When miracle of miracles!
I saw. A fucking. Bus
Our saturated souls rejoiced!
Our outward wet demeanor
Changed not a jot but deep inside
Our keening hearts grew keener.
The bus horn beeped as we all steeped
Like teabags in a cup
Of water cold, forgotten, old
We wished to be picked up
The hopeful wish was quickly squished.
We saw, while paralyzed
The most Canadian of sights;
The bus apologized.
It's blushing sign said “SORRY” and
I felt myself grow nervous.
The word rolled up replaced by more
Those words read, “NOT IN SERVICE”.
But as my hope extinguished like
A campfire in a flood
I saw a sight that struck a light
Inside my poet blood.
The sign had more! It rolled again.
I saw the very best
Error that I've ever seen
The next word was “EXPRESS”.
The SORRY NOT IN SERVICE bus
EXPRESS went by and through
A puddle deeper, dirtier,
And closer than I knew
And as the tepid, bus-induced
Tsunami splashed our way
And coated all our coats in coats
Of puddle-pudding grey,
I felt reborn! A christening
A change felt through and through
Because I felt a metaphor
Had nearly drowned me, too.
That bus was going nowhere fast
That bus was an “EXPRESS”
“NOT IN SERVICE” but so clearly
Working nonetheless.
Just like me, I thought with glee.
As years accumulate
And time's sublime dark tendency
Makes years accelerate,
And decades pass as if a month
Has only just flown by,
We fall through time and it speeds up
Faster til we die.
Ironically, ability
to deal with life recedes.
We can't pick up passengers.
We can't fulfill their needs.
We drive alone and empty,
Going faster temporally,
While losing that which makes us good;
Our functionality.
Ignoring stops while people wait
Our faces sorry signs
And “not in service” says our eyes
Through old, beleaguered lines.
My face, though over-moisturized
Just smiled through the drenching
As others cursed, my damp face grinned
And though my teeth were clenching
And chattering from frozen slush
And water chilled my face
I had a damp epiphany
While rooted there in place
I had become what I beheld
I knew ‘twas always thus
From now on, I’d be the “NOT IN
SERVICE EXPRESS” bus.


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What a night. I got to Lydia's pub from the airport and I was super nervous. Charles picked me up and gave me a ride. I saw a few familiar faces from CFSW at Lydia's when I got there. They were having a CFSW organization meeting and it looks like they have everything well in hand. I brought a lot of merch as per other poets' recommendations. My new chapbook and some Van Slam shirts. I sold 22 chapbooks. Fucking ridiculous.

I was worried going up. During the open mic, someone innocently told me that I better be off book. Since I am not off book on any of my poems, I was suddenly terrified. I didn't know what to expect. There was a five-person open mic, a break, then me. The crowd was pretty sparse but it filled up quick. It was a beautiful day here so I'm not surprised. Summer slams are slow everywhere I imagine.

I started with my star trek rap, went into my first breakup poem, did Next Jen, and then segued into stuff my new book with a dirty haiku in between each poem. When it was over, they demanded an encore so I gave them one. First time that's happened I think.

Afterwards, a lot of people came to get their books signed. One woman had just broken up with a tall man so both my tall poem AND my breakup poems resonated with her. Another woman usually can't make it out so tonight was her first poetry night in years and she said she was super happy to have seen me. Another younger woman at the bar told me she loves video games and star trek and she was serious. She lost it when I told her I'd worked on Red Dead Redemption. Although at the end, she did tell me to "live long and prosperous". LOL.

I had great talks with everyone afterwards, especially Ryan Bradshaw and Dorion Brady from the burlesque scene up here.

I'm leaving with a fair amount of cash and a much lighter heart. I'm sure for most traveling poets, this is just a normal night of performing but for a nervous person who hasn't done too many away-from-home features, it's been magical.

Home again tomorrow. Looking forward to being back and seeing Audrey and Sonja and the Van Slam again but this has been a fantastic experience.


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Hey there. After having lived in The West End for a long time and living in Kitsilano for a long time as well, I've been working on a theory. When I lived in Kits, I used to go downtown all the time. Once I moved downtown, I went to Kitsilano about two or three times a year. I think there is a mental image in the heads of people that live in the West End. I think that this is that image.





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Hey there.

Just a little PSA here for anyone who wants to see a fantastic play to round out the year. Are you like me? Do you like high-quality live theater? Do you wish that you'd see more live theater but never seem to get around to it except when someone really encourages you to see a play that they've seen and liked?

Well if you are, then listen up. There's a great play happening down at the Jericho Arts Center until Sunday. It's by Eugene O'Neil and it's called Moon for the Misbegotten. It centers around an Irish Father and daughter that live on a struggling farm in 1920s America. It's a story of love, it's a story of humanity, and it's a story of family hardship.

It's a very moving and well-rounded piece. There are great laughs as well as tears. It's a great night our for anyone who even vaguely feels like seeing some theater. It gets the thumbs up from me.

Check it out. You won't be disappointed.




A Moon for the Misbegotten
by Eugene O’Neill

directed by Jack Paterson

playing until Sunday, Dec. 9 at 8PM

Cast for A Moon for the Misbegotten are Corina Akeson (Josie), Mike Wasko (Tyrone), Michael Kopsa (Phil Hogan), Troy Young (Harder) & Adam Bergquist (Mike Hogan), with stage management by Linda Bakker, set by John R. Taylor, lighting design by Jesse Frank, costume design by Nykiya Graham and sound by Jeff Tymoschuk.

A Moon for the Misbegotten runs at the Jericho Arts Centre (1675 Discovery) from Nov. 16 – Dec. 9, Thursday through Sunday, at 8 pm. Tickets are $12 - $16 and available at the door.

For reservations and information
phone 604 224 8007, ext. 2
or visit
www.unitedplayers.com


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A couple of things.

I went to see the Hunchback of Notre Dame under the Burrard Street Bridge on Saturday night and while the run is sold out, I recommend showing up for last-minute cancellations if you don't have a ticket. Or if you've got connections, use 'em. It's a great show. Quite inventive and definitely what I've come to expect from Boca Del Lupo.

Another friend of mine didn't dig on it at all, though, so I'm interested in hearing what *you* think.

After that, I saw Jackie Blackmore and Ten West AGAIN with a passel of friends that I brought down to see the show. Great stuff.

Jackie Blackmore and her sketch comedy troupe The Skinny are performing AGAIN at 10PM on Thursday Friday and Saturday at the Waterfront with hilarious local comedy duo The Crawford Twins. Tickets are fifteen dollars and I seriously recommend these shows if you need a few laughs.

Last night, I went to see Oklahoma at the Theater Under the Stars in Malkin Bowl in Stanley Park during the last few gasps of the Perseid Meteor Shower. It was incredible. Two very bright stars fell during the performance. Pretty magical, really.

I'll tell you something, though, Oklahoma is LONG. I had no idea.

On Sunday, I saw Talk To Me, starring Don Cheadle and Chiwetel Ejiofor (you might know him as the villain in Serenity or the queen from Kinky Boots) in a biopic about Peter Green, one of the first really big black voices on radio in Washington or, as he calls it, P-Town. Great performances. The first half is off the hook but it bogs down midway with the usual problems associated with paring a famous person's entire career down to two hours. Worth seeing, though.

Tonight, I'm going down to see the awesome and talented Connie Lingus host a comedy revue down at The Cobalt at 9:30. It's an experiment but I'm going to check it out. She's an awesome lady and a hell of a funny person. I can't imagine that they'll have many folk there on a Tuesday night so come on down and help pack the place.

Tomorrow night I'm going to see Scarfarce at the Havana on the drive at 9:30, a one-man show starring Peter Kelamis about a Tony Montoya-type's struggle to take over the world of underpants and get a stranglehold on the market in Vancouver. Looks crazy enough to be hilarious.

Thursday I'm going to see Teen Shakespeare's production of Romeo and Juliet directed by the guy also who directed that awesome version of Titus Andronicus a year or so ago. It's FREE, in case I didn't mention it. Come on down. These (pardon my old-guy condescension)kids have a lot of heart and while the performances are spotty, they're enthusiastic. And it's FREE. It'll be fun.

Friday, I'm off to see The Skinny and The Crawford Twins at the Waterfront Theater at 10. Come down for a laugh.

Saturday, I'm going to see the final night of the award-winning Tuesdays and Thursdays (scroll down past the taiko drummers) at the Waterfront. It's a serious play about star-crossed lovers in Canada during WWI. I know, it's a hard sell but people just can't shut up about how incredible this play is. Should be awesome.

Sunday is a brunch.

Monday my ex-wife gets to town for three weeks to enjoy summer in Vancouver.

It's been like this since June. It'll be like this until halfway through September. I'm having a hell of a summer, how about you?



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Today was a lovely day. I went to the No Car Festival on Commercial Street. I met my friends Greg and Karen. I met my friend Alex. I saw Christine and Rass on their balcony. I bumped in to Jhayne, her brother Graeme, and longtime friend of the family Molly . I bumped into Don DeBrandt and Kate. I saw Sam Dulmage. I also ran into the secretary from work, underwear bowling fame and all around tattooed rollergirl Melinda. I took some pictures. I got a sunburn.
I raced to get over to meet my brother for a game of pool and dinner. Our first fatherless father's day. He won the tournament this week and won the silver metal superman ring. He will wear it until the next time we play when we will compete for it again. This was a tradition that my brother and my father and I had. Now it’s just my brother and I. It’s great.
I went back to his place for dinner and his wife and the two of us all had a great laugh.

Today was better than I could have hoped for. I feel exhausted and I connected with many of my friends. This more than makes up for last Sunday. Bring on Monday.



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Hey Look!

Someone sent a video camera fifteen years into the future and managed to get a film of me dancing. Well at least I've lost weight. I like my green shirt and my hat.

I cut a rug.

So I went to see Mix Master Mike last night at Richards. He was pretty stellar. The guy really is from another planet when it comes to mixing stuff up and scratching. His enthusiasm would get the better of him sometimes and the thread would get lost but it would always come back.

What's that? You'd like to see some examples?
Well alright! The sounds is terrible and if scratching is not your bag, baby, then this might be boring. But if not, then checki-checki-checki-checkitout.

Mix Master Mike 1.
Mix Master Mike 2.
Mix Master Mike 3.

And here's someone (who claims to be Mix 'Meister' Mike ) mixing the Fugees with South Park. Nice. I recommend this one.

Oh my god, they killed Kenny.

Malcolm in the Middle and that Seventies show are going to end their seven and eight year runs this week. The nation weeps. And Firefly got less that a season.
Truly we live in a frightening reality.
But there is fun to be had and joy to be found.



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Vancouver.
Even lion tamers learn by trial and error.
Guess who I saw today? Amy Adams. She played the awkward but beautiful nurse that fell in love with Leonardo DiCaprio in Catch Me If You Can. She was also oscar nominated this year for her performance in Junebug. She's luminous. And I mean seriously great. I'm happy she chose acting as a profession.
I didn't say hi.
Guess who I saw today? Owen Wilson. He came out of a bookstore on Robson that I was passing on my way home. That nose is unmistakeable. I've always enjoyed the earnest loveability of his comedic characters. He plays for laughs but he plays his characters like they're real people. He's one of my favourite comedic actors.
I didn't say hi.
I'm watching a documentary right now called Fast, Cheap and Out of Control. It's about four eccentric but passionate people. One person is a robot scientist who is trying to make robots that walk around by themselves. The archive footage of his earlier projects is incredible. One person is a biologist who specializes in naked mole rats. His passion is spectacular to behold. Naked mole rats are as close as a mammal has become to being a cold blooded creature. One person is a lion tamer. The old circus footage is great. The last guy is a gardener who specializes in topiary sculptures. His creatures are great. He worked for a long time for one old woman who never married. She said to him that she loved a man once but it didn't work out so she chose to never marry.
I'm saying hi to all of them.