12 months, 12 first lines

Because I hate resolutions. Because I hate advice.

Because I still somehow wanted to mark the passing of 2009, I stole this idea from Rebecca Rosenblum's Rose-coloured post on the same topic.

Basically, the gimmick is to take the first sentence of the first post of every month. But, since some of my first lines were entire stanzas, I decided they "counted" too.

I sort of like the haphazard narrative that emerges. All my favourite things: mushrooms, hikes, books, writing. I also like that it's fragmentary, just like my 2009.

* * *


This gory pinwheel is what happens when you neglect a spore print, leaving the mushroom to decompose on your careful verses...


Lately, I've had two full days a week, bought and paid for, for writing.


There's a splendid documentary called Know Your Mushrooms appearing at Winnipeg's Cinematheque March 13 & 14.


IT might seem strange to recommend a novel about a drought set in the U.S. south while we endure our northern flood.


1.
A boy worth his salt, having stayed
for a last weary swim, finds
himself at the bottom
of the canal.


1.
Our boy, having dismounted from the train
after a long day of pulp & newsprint shadows,
walked to the paddock, his empty belly


How she used to look when she’d come out
onto the big stoop
of the house and call Alva!


All photos Assiniboine Forest, Winnipeg, MB. August 4, 2009.


This from our walk last week, in which there were many bugs and not many good pictures.


Despite my neglect of my yard this year, in favour of finishing the ms., in favour of avoiding the summer's bad weather, when it came time to strip down the garden, it took me most of the evening to process the bounty.


We moved all this junk on the weekend, mostly because we suddenly bought a new house a week and a half ago and so suddenly had to have our old house clean and tidy.


A month or so ago, I was asked if I wanted to co-judge the Writers' Collective's annual poetry contest.