The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster

Your Catfish Friend

If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond
and you were to come by
one evening
when the moon was shining
down into my dark home
and stand there at the edge
of my affection
and think, "It's beautiful
here by this pond. I wish
somebody loved me,"
I'd love you and be your catfish
friend and drive such lonely
thoughts from your mind
and suddenly you would be
at peace,
and ask yourself, "I wonder
if there are any catfish
in this pond? It seems like
a perfect place for them."

AUX PRISES AVEC LA TOUR D'IVOIRE

Me voilà assis (dans un café), d'humeur propice
à écrire un poème. A propose de quoi?
Je ne sais pas. J'en ai envie, c'est tout, quand brusquement un jeune homme
pressé s'approche de moi et dit : "Puis-je me servir de votre stylo?"
Il a une enveloppe à la main.
"Je voudrais marquer l'adresse dessus."
Il prend mon stylo et marque l'adresse sur l'enveloppe. Il ne plaisante pas avec ça. Il se sert vraiment du stylo, lui.