these are eggs

i for got about you
/ when i left surreality
& became / real again


so to day she starts health
over / again / leaves home
drives up the valley

wind along the slocan river
the high way / narrow / twists
empties out / on to / straight stretches /
through crescent valley / past slocan park
through winlaw / past lemon creek

all the while / mountains / the mountains
rise / bold / rock faced / they hold this valley
tight / / this is autumn / trees turn excited lee
to yellows & reds / oh the reds / burn ing bush
this is glory / against blue skies / & air / crisp
crisp / crisp / this is what the nose smells
pure est air of all / taste the river / water
this is the smell of water / & millions of
trees / fir / pine / cedar /

she puts her arm out the window
summer definite lee gone /







it's so hard to write a poem about my children
to name them
for each one i carry a burden of guilt
of perhaps something not tended to

lost fathers / /

6 children & 3 fathers
4 from one / one from one
one with this one /

one missing alcoholic
one missing (presumed dead) junkie
& one who is on the road all the time
missed the most / he's been here longer
than the other two combined / / /

see / this is not a poem / /
this is children with out a daddy
this is an eldest son / who cried @
the age of 6 / when am i going to see my dad again
i keep waiting & waiting / every day & ever night
i wait to see my dad again / /

this is running from an abusive relationship
he's the child his father loved / the rest were
mine / /

this is a 5th child / red haired / tempered
who met his father once / but there is no
memory for new borns / / a relationship
fleeting / not meant to last /
he knows he is different / a mercy fuck
a freedom baby / /

this is 4 year old / the baby / a father
who works on the road / the road is long

i miss my dad he says / / but he knows /
they know / no other / life /

but this one



i ask the older 4 if they want me to
try @ find their dad / they say no
beyond care ing






chickens scare her / yucky
gross things / with feet covered in shit
some with feathers picked / red bald
from their asses /

but they are happy to see her
she / with the bucket of grub
the instructions were:
just give them the compost

but it is lean times with
this poet cooking / not much
left to throw into the compost bucket
so she picks them / chick weed / cabbage &
broccoli leaves / swiss chard from the garden

there is feed / seeds / mixed grains
chickens peck peck peck /
what a boring life you chickens have
just live to eat / what else is there
/ / peck peck peck
she talks to them / like children /


chickens really like:
cooked oatmeal / mint tea bags?
scrambled eggs & spagetti noodles
with sauce / /

but it's their eggs that fascinate

the hen house is dark / stinky
& full of cobwebs / the feed bin
in side / / duck down / no stand ing
room / one chicken sits inside
watch ing her / first one eye
then the other / glint glint

open bin / hope there are no mice
scoop feed from separate bags
take out side / for the girls
fill feeder / toss some on the ground
back in side / don't for get to close the bin

search in the dusty dim for
eggs / not many / 3 or 4 a day

they don't lay much these days

bit's of shit & saw dust
stick to the shells / washed /
they must be washed / placed in
cartons / 2 doz this week
neighbour children come for
them on sundays

brown / spotted / white
round / oblong / bumps & ripples
some with 2 yolks / orange
the yolks are brightest orange
these are farmer's eggs / not
manufactured / ware housed eggs

these are chickens / /