Poetry

Every Yukoner has tried hitching the backyard chickens to the kicksled

A brave assemblage of abuse, neglect, recklessness and rejuvenation

By gay I mean wondrous, the sun hitting our thankless bodies

Winter is a place you will relearn every year

"Is this fifty? Everything on repeat?”

"I’ve settled for dull olive mud that pools in a tailings pond.”

Poems

Innovative and searching, this rich collection will linger, will haunt, may gently sink beneath your wisdom like a pebble.

“I am many arms and feet/ a strutting/ glorious/ line-scribbled day.”

"To read this book is to attend a play"