life urban sprawls
lawns of chain-dog
days and barbecue nights
a mini-series ago
last-call ungulate
and hawk stalked
these driven cul-de-sacs
homes on the range
stripped and malled now,
Alberta’s natural history
a book scant shelves
below Myth and Lore
above hearths and fake
fireplaces there may as well
be the trophy hunter’s gun
mounted and pointing
towards back doors opened
to non-native species
christening patches of green
with bottled […]
absence and fonder hearts
spark campground fires,
homes away from home
house-sat by anonymous
bugs tittering citronella
flame and drip
token guitars sing
through broken strings
of the ones that got away,
simpler times, and the blue
skies beyond the starry black
we conduct in mud-cake jean
and boot annealing
below marshmallow batons
beers and thermos-teas empty
as chill night fills
with harvesting moons, moonlight
and firelight ways to illumine
all […]
wind and traffic battle
‘til wind wins, traffic
noise parked mountains
below, irrelevant roads
reduced to binocular
vision, tunnelled
the gods up here
haven’t been touched
for days
up here the wind is not
gentle—plant feet carefully
and earn the right to king
and queen this castle
this domain; hold fast and
hug these rocks of ages and
maybe we can stay awhile,
the beginnings of the earth
spiked and […]
space is the great
listener, one great
pause to reflect
i shout into voids
waiting
for word boomerang
echo’s take
and give
up there somewhere
is the one
perfect
conversation
everything said
just right
pithy, and articulate
no space for lament—
the miles my words
have traveled
beheld
between blinks
of your eyes
~ Ben Murray
Ben Murray is an Edmonton-based writer whose poetry has appeared in many journals, including Descant, Quills, Grain, Carousel, CV2, The Windsor […]
it’s a man’s world of
unzip dangle and no-contact
elevator eyes, of drain and
scowl and maybe rinse,
roll-up towels and sleeves
germ runways ready
for take-off
in this world my
wayward peripheral quick
double-takes a man
post-business tucking-in
and buckling up; sinkward-bound
this man is none other than
a Nobel Laureate for Literature,
this writer for the ages having
stained porcelain air with
piss as noble and fragrant
as mine perhaps, […]
