Fiction & Poetry

There are places in the world where a woman alone on a street experiences rape just because she is alone on a street. Like a dropped bill or coin, belonging to no-one, free to be…
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The number 7 bus drops me off   in the hood, next to a low stone wall  I see Amos  and can’t believe he is still alive.  His white eyes scored with bloody capillaries,…
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What if the mind doesn’t like to be followed  all the time.  Every morning, the pen noting  it went here, it went there.  Maybe it’s tired  of the hand, that paparazzo in…
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As if a gust of wind had me by the throat I began throwing things out –   last week’s news I might yet read, and this week’s – into the bin,  papers I might yet need—a…
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If you want to know what it feels like to be a child of survivors, read this slim and vital poetry collection. Holocaust literature rarely features the trauma reverberating in the…
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Seymour Mayne has been teaching at the University of Ottawa since 1973 where he is a Professor of Canadian Literature, Creative Writing, and Canadian Studies. A four-time winner of…
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On Aspects of Judaism by Salis Daiches, 1928, found by his great-granddaughter in a Wigtown bookshop, September 2012 December nineteen forty-four, the world blind…
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Persephone Elopes Watch her steps On any ancient frieze: He’s a terrorist; she’s his Mission: the country he’ll kill For. He says he’ll blow apart Her home if she…
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I am a poet exiled to fields of colour, seed words in the furrow of the brush sprout rhymed lines upon soft canvases fertilise them with pigments, make pictures grow. I am a…
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