Author Archives: lorraine minosky
Alternative media better late than never
Inspired by Katherine’s blueberries.
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Minosky Assign 2 Proxy Poem
August Evening
When did the wolf change?
When did he decide to step into the fire-warmed circle?
When did the wolf become a dog?
This dog right here, I mean–
the one who has settled by my side on the lawn chair,
the one who is gazing out into the vastness of the evening sky,
who is cocking his head
who is twitching his moist nose, sniffing life.
Now he fixes a stare on me, and says not a word but speaks volumes.
Now he wriggles in closer and nuzzles the crook of my arm.
I don’t know exactly what love is.
I do know how to search soulful eyes,
how to look for understanding and see myself,
how to bury my face in musky fur, how to revel in rancid kisses,
how to call and come in return,
how to walk side by side each day, how to be still and listen
Which is what I have been doing all evening.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Aren’t dogs just a fanciful creature of our possession?
Tell me, what creature are you going to invite into your home,
To teach your heart to grow?
Minosky Assignment 2
Minosky Assignment 1
Community Center
Angelo’s yellow jacket lies neatly folded
In the worn, wooden cubby
A single banana lies resting on top
A familiar sight for 15 years
Same jacket, different banana
My places have steadily been demolished
These last 15 years
Victims to economy and bulldozers
Washed away by my own personal tsunami
Homes, schools
People
Everything is different
Except the welcoming arms of the automatic doors
As I enter my community centre
I stuff my bag into the neighbouring cubby
And smile at the familiar jacket
I tug my muggy gloves on and give them a sniff, wince
I become part of the collective musk.
I enter the labyrinth
My metal, blue vinyl-pewed church
And become numbed by the thump, thump, thump of
Trodding on the treadmill
Running rapidly to nowhere
Rebooting my frantic mind with movement and music
I trundle around,
Engaging in the rhythmic movement
Pushing and pulling and lifting
Creating microscopic tears in my muscles
Preparing my body to repair
Preparing for the real weights
Friends approach and smile
Many with the measured steps of deceptively delicate insects
As they make their way around the labyrinth
Supported by walkers, chairs, canes,
Human hands
Waging wars
Collectively delusional in our quest to gain control
Over body, mind and time
We walk the wheel
In our suburban sanctuary of incremental miracles
Nobody leaps out of their chairs or tosses their crutches
Yelling hallelujah
I lie on the blue plastic mat
Contemplate the fluorescent lights, suspended and swaying ever so slightly
Watch the silent ballet around me
Slightly out of synch with the soft intonations of Joni Mitchell in my ears
As I gather my bag from my cubby
I notice that the yellow jacket and banana are gone
I emerge from my
Community chrysalis
Hobbling but hopeful,
Knowing that I will be back
Steve McQueen of Ladner
Hey, do rats dream?
Whatever possessed him
To build his dream home under the hood
Of our 2012 Mustang?
Did he have dreams?
Of rising up
Out of his gutter life of
Rummaging, pillaging, scrounging
Vermin of 52 Avenue
What was he thinking when he heard
The click of the key,
The slam of the door
Sucking in his tiny breath
Ready to let his mottled fur fly
Living for the thrill
As he rode that 350 horse power
through the streets of Ladner
When he sat
Hunkered down under the hood
Adrenaline surging
In the Save-on-Foods parking lot
Did he know what he was in for again?
Addicted to the rush?
Is that what drew him back last night?
As his entrails exploded,
Dreaming in his Warfarin haze.
Steve McQueen of Ladner,
Writhing under the hood
A life misspent on cars
Ending in intravascular coagulation