the outing

out of all things mainstream
no rules apply
out of the rat race
kissing the sky

on the edge of everything
with a smile and a dance
the never ending menagerie
parading, masquerading
forgive me for choosing this time
to reveal these glimpses of my imagination
i couldn't resist
the temptation
to dream

i remember my grandma's breasts

big, floppy

held in close by vast swatches of bleached elastic

and i remember her belly

round, 

constantly in motion

from rest to playful laughter

to pensiveness 

as she decided what to take out of the cold room next

i remember her watchful eyes

as she placed her arms in her lap

in between her breasts and her belly

a safe, quiet place

to nurture the goddess within

if i was an activist
or a mother
ass seated firmly upon comfy couch
one leg over the other in yoga stretch
to release tense muscles
mind winding to mind ahead
counter stretch
unnecessary sneezes and squeezes
and a pliant sighs
i might fall back in the wildflowers
to patiently wait for the banquet

i get up with the birds
their incessant rant 
about truth
drives me to wake
if you listen to them carefully
you will hear thunder and peace

dear puppy
who sleeps with her little nose
buried under a pillow
curled up in a tight little ball
dear dog
who wags her bum in my face
every time i
come through the door
dear ella
who thinks she rules the universe
who snorts and begs and then snorts again
and smells like the river where she runs
dear ella
my conscience and my heart
keep humanity safe today

horizon
looming, bold
catching reflections
of moments past
reaching towards
invisible stars and
constellations of ancient memories
comfortably seated at the table
of life
constant, regardless
irreverent beauty
discourse of the unknown
she awakens

the second last sip
the very best against my lips
the taunt of desire
the foreboding pleasure
the truth of addiction
the second last sip 

a black woman, a janitor in a school
Monday to Friday
a housekeeper in a massive hotel every weekend
working 7 days a week
to feed her children
who still knows how to smile, to dance, to sing
I met a new goddess warrior today
and together we are going to change the world

I am inspired by reading this painful and telling story....I'm a white girl with loads of privilege who happened to get a glimpse of the real world when I entered the world of social work. I emerged from the cocoon, a pretty butterfly in an ugly, ugly world. I actually remember the exact moment that I became aware that I was not like 'everyone else'. I remember discovering that I was to blame for the suffering in the world. I first discovered the little people 'in africa'.....that far away 'country'....we sent them money and had their pictures pasted on our fridge, so that every time I grabbed a glass of whatever I wanted, I would think of them. good old Christian charity. my first days working in the grouphome, I was shocked by what I saw. kids, just years younger than me, abused by a system that perpetrated the very abuse they had been subject to in their home. these kids, full of life and love and energy and desire, dumped on a doorstep by caring adults who didn't know any better. I still talk to some of those kids. brave warriors of life. and I carried their stories into the reservations. I am still sorry that when I tried to make sure that those kids stayed with their parents that it wasn't meant to be. I still sit with their mom on the corner of dundas and Richmond and just say 'fuck a duck' as we both sink into our vices. I am sad and I am sorry and I hope that what I have learned will manifest in the hearts of my children so this history will never be repeated.

amen

i had a dream.
not a mlk dream but a dream.
my mother was there and she told me to keep going.
in life, my mother never said these words.
she was always afraid of what i might do or where i might go.
she was always afraid.
i made her very sad, angry and worried.
i broke every single one of her rules.
every single one and then a few she hadn't thought up yet.
and she loved me through all of it.
and in this dream,
she told me to keep going.
keep going.
keep going.
keep going.
and i will believe in my mom in her death, like i never believed in her life.

LIFE WITH A HAMSTER

it all began when kathy tew insisted on bringing it home
we were in grade 6 and pets in classes were still cool

unless you took the bus
the city bus....
we managed to avoid scrutiny on the first bus
the little rodent napped his way on

but the second bus
the fateful second bus...
REFUSED ENTRY
ENTRY DENIED
little dude (forgive me, i forget his name)
or even if it was a 'he'
i digress...little dude was safely locked in his cage
complete with wheel (still want to try one of those things)
and was a threat to no one
shampoo bottles on a plane are a much greater threat
who knows what could happen with those suds
ah, i digress again...

so we had to take a ride home with a stranger...
a nice stranger, a bank manager...the people in the banks are all nice
dammit i digressed again!

i shit bricks when he dropped kathy tew off first
now it was just me and the hamster and a nice bank manager
...............and he dropped me off at home, safe and sound with the hamster

i thank that nice bank manager man for making me feel safe
and for simply offering a nice gesture to two stranded girls and a hamster
i wish i knew his name
the bank is gone now
in it's place, an arts store

i am blessed with a safe and happy life
blessed
many women have trusted like i have, and have not arrived home safely
many women suffer childhood scars that may never be healed
many women cry even though they smile at their children every day
many women feel broken

many women are the voice of our future
many women, holding hands

i still remember that day like it was yesterday
i remember calling kathy tew to let her know i was home safe
i remember the relief in her voice
i remember that she was my sister
i remember that she was there for me
and that we were in this together

i will also remember all of the missing and murdered indigenous women
in Canada, home of colonizing racist settlers
i will remember residential schools and poverty and abuse
i will remember every single policy that shamed and blamed
and i will remember steven harper's legacy of international crime

and then i will dance with the moon and the wildflowers
in epiphany
as we blast off the facade
firefighter regulation hoses required
and i will be at the front of the team
who holds one
tightly
and oozing with love