Adventures on E.I.

Everett Crowley Park, Vancouver BC, in early September 2008

Took Skytrain from Nanaimo Stn. to Joyce (1 stop). Walked to Kingsway -- 7-11 Slurpee, down Joyce, then Doman: flat, Ford-Festiva urbanity therein. Old farm? Stopped at Champlain Heights Bibliotheque. Cue librarian. Down Kerr to Park: dogs & the people who walk them, ash-gravel trails, down-up, no benches, no gaunt grey trolls under bridges. No mountain goats, no Luc Moullet actors. Occasional glimpses of Richmond farmland, lush squares like Melmac jello molds. Pick up a walking stick, it's like a rite of passage into middle age. Parkasaurus.

AVALON POND

Indian summer cooling off. Thickets of cedars (prolly), unseen frogs, visible ducks, seen unrippling water serenely spills over a wooden culvert. Waterfall off the charts after climbing steadily over the summers, but the local kids don't forget it, they have it programmed into their cellphones. Kids, the worlds' finest wanderers-off-from-themselves. Walked along the pond's muddy cape, following an old faint trail into the middle of a stand of trees. I have Gilbert's "Grounds" with me; I pull it out and read "Starshit," not a masterwork, but it has its moments in the stars and straps of sunlight that stream in between the trees.

I Have A Rendezvous With Anamorphic Widescreen

"My dad was a circuit judge
who settled all disputes
over the phone in
a bathtub filled with gin

Since he's been gone,
no matter the condition
of our kinship,
he still always tucks my mother in ..."

The Conclusion of William Murchison Greendeer's "Flow Heavy, O Granite Sill!"

She arrived at the timber cabin, dragging and bumping her suitcase behind her. Water poured down through the eavestrough. In such a climate, she was much better off without Walter's heavy garlic breath and learned expatiation of the most obscure lexical items in Polish. Pulling a chair to the window, she threw up the sash and leaned her elbow on the old granite sill, outlasting pleasure ...