In On Sherbourne Street' for example, "Security men wear Kevlar vests/and follow a German Shepherd on a chain/through the hallways of my building." Life is an "immense acreage of solitude," a purposeless drifting apart; a journey that ends in a place "where Demerol and Morphine separate the last of our consciousness from a body shrinking away to pain." It's unlikely you'll find any of these poems in a Hallmark greeting card.
from The Globe and Mail: Bloodied, but unbowed
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