Search Categories - Any -25 Lines or FewerCanadaPre 21st Century21st Century Grade levels - Any -Grades 7-9 / Sec. 1-3Grades 10-12 / Sec. 4 & 5 / CEGEP 1 Sort by RandomNewestMost popularA -> ZZ -> A Apply Elizabeth Bishop One Art The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Ward Maxwell grass grass is unusual it was invented by the Romans unlike most people grass stays where it grows if grass had gone to the moon it would be there today because grass looks luxurious Cecily Nicholson from “Road Shoulders” power lines held by birds of prey the hostile expanse above ditches teeming floral invasive wayside fleurs late summer the shoulder sang holds breeze by John Ashbery Interesting People of Newfoundland Newfoundland is, or was, full of interesting people. Like Larry, who would make a fool of himself on street corners for a nickel. There… Afua Cooper At the Centre Today doves flew from my head and my hair grew the longing is gone from my body Stephanie Bolster Portrait of Alice with Elvis Queen and King, they rule side by side in golden thrones above the clouds. Her giggle and wide eyes remind him jaye simpson urban NDNs in the DTES had a dozen foster parents tell me to run from my mother’s truth the track marks up her arm, Sharon Thesen Mean Drunk Poem Backward & down into inbetween as Vicki says. Or as Robin teaches the gap, from which all things emerge. A left handed compliment. Bats… James Langer St John’s Burns Down for the Umpteenth Time Let’s say the fix was in. Let’s say history, Being human and thus short on ideas, Made change from an old bag of tricks. Say this Robert Bringhurst These Poems, She Said These poems, these poems, these poems, she said, are poems with no love in them. These are the poems of a man Lorna Crozier Fear of Snakes The snake can separate itself from its shadow, move on ribbons of light, taste the air, the morning and the evening, Bronwen Wallace Common Magic Your best friend falls in love and her brain turns to water. You can watch her lips move, Mathew Henderson Badlands Your father worked Drumheller while you ate and slept at home. He travelled the badlands, squatted below rocks, read books … Kevin Connolly Plenty The sky, lit up like a question or an applause meter, is beautiful like everything else today: the leaves Kate Hall Insomnia If I were to sleep, it would be on an iron bed, bolted to the floor in a bomb-proof concrete room with twelve locks on the door. Méira Cook Adam Father He wakes up naked and drunk as a bear on sun-fermented garbage. Hungover and queasy and riled up by bees. Nothing going well today, he moans, life being short and the craft, ah, long. Jane Munro Sonoma He totaled his blue truck — slowly spun out on an icy bridge, rammed it into a guard rail. Ian Williams Echolalia Once one gets what one wants one no longer wants it. One no longer wants what? Gwendolyn MacEwen A Breakfast for Barbarians my friends, my sweet barbarians, there is that hunger which is not for food — but an eye at the navel turns the appetite Rosanna Deerchild the second time i ask mama about residential school she says no i ask her again she says no the third time i stop listen to her silence ask about her diabetes P. K. Page The Blue Guitar They said, ‘You have a blue guitar, You do not play things as they are.’ The man replied, ‘Things as they are… Laurie D. Graham Fast Commute The meteorologists are pleading with us to keep checking back through the storm, ice pellets making a carpet two, three inches thick, this pale beach we walk on, this wind that passed Bliss Carman Low Tide on Grand Pré The sun goes down, and over all These barren reaches by the tide Such unelusive glories fall, Di Brandt my mother found herself my mother found herself one late summer afternoon lying in grass under the wild yellow plum tree jewelled with sunlight she was forgotten there in spring picking rhubarb for pie & the children home from F. R. Scott Laurentian Shield Hidden in wonder and snow, or sudden with summer, This land stares at the sun in a huge silence Endlessly repeating something we cannot… El Jones Glass Hands: A Eulogy on the Anniversary of the Pandemic Hands pressed to glass Daniel David Moses Hotel Centrale, Rotterdam I am awake between stiff sheets tonight in room thirty four, listening to the heat Sarah de Leeuw Skeena Crossing What is this this crossing? In the photo just in front of the train with the crane at the edge of the drop off from track into river Dane Swan Pride A half-hour. Thirty minutes. One thousand eight hundred seconds. They sat. Protest is not supposed to be comfortable. John McCrae In Flanders Fields In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky Brandon Wint From: Incantation: Memory of Water Tonight, a strand of my great-grandmother’s hair sashes an amber beer bottle discarded by a tourist. A white thread of my grandmother’s baptismal robe is a bangle on a wrist of kelp Joshua Whitehead Full Metal Oji-Cree this is the transsensorium there are indo-robo-women fighting cowboys on the frontier & winning finally the premodern is a foundation for the postmodern wintermute, tessier-ashpool, armitage Adam Sol Opus 75, Sestina in B-flat for the Glockenspiel In the empty classroom, at sunrise, a girl sits on the floor, staring at a glockenspiel. She’s shredding the cuticles on her left hand Sarah Tolmie 39 Oliver Sacks is going to die, He tells us blithely in the New York Times. He’s 81. His liver’s shot. He’s blind in one eye Though when both worked fine Margaret Atwood They are hostile nations 1 In view of the fading animals the proliferation of sewers and fears Robert W. Service The Cremation of Sam McGee There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales Sue Goyette Eight The trick to building houses was making sure they didn’t taste good. The ocean’s culinary taste was growing more sophisticated and occasionally Kateri Akiwenzie-Damm sturgeon i twist and gasp open and close my mouth searching for air whenever a sturgeon is caught in the rainy river i know the feel of strange hands touching my body the struggle Michael Prior A Hundred and Fifty Pounds In some, the luggage lies open like a mouth mid-sentence. In others, closed zippers grimace: What would you have brought? Slippers, a stuffed platypus, a gold watch Emily Riddle Dinosaur Economics i wanted bitumen to be made of dead dinosaurs. why did i want these ancient kin to be passively implicated in the fossil fuel industry? it Language English