It’s summer. Life’s a beach.
warm Winnipeg nights
fall like goose down,
dogs poke them with their noses;
chase, fetch, drop.
They fritter them with wagging.
I will collect the ones I find
for a quilt
big enough for two,
big enough for the longest winter.
Tarmac black is the closest
most get to the darkness required
for seeing some stars.
Pats of begrimed and flattened gum
make a dot to dot of that we discard
from our unlit, fleshy selves.
We could draw connecting lines:
veins enlivening a form to clothe in stories
but they’d soon disappear under a glob of spit or a dropped drink.
Let us simply continue to spit out that which we cannot digest
expanding this fetid milky way until our mouths are stoppered
with the unpalatable negatives of stars.
The Antwerp-based Cakehouse Collective received 110 pages of very nice old paper from the atelier of theBelgian graphic artist “Henri van Straten“. They then invited some artists to intervene on some of the pages. It’s a continuous story, in layers. Some pages were still empty, other ones already have a layer of a former artist. The papers were posted between artists Vaast Colson, Robert Dupic, Fred Bervoets, Tom Poelmans, Lieven Segers, Michele Matyn, Mehdi Shobo Shobo, Tom Tosseyn, Wesley Wolkman, hannah_g, Dennis Tyfus.
I used LetraSett that a friend had found to insert lines from a few of my poems into the images on the posters.