Lately I haven't been doing much. Everyone has left me in Sarnia and the reality of the situation is starting to set in. It's leaving a slight distaste in the back of my throat. I do remember why I left this house and this city. I remember but I hope the fear and the twisted 'comfort' of this place drives me to write and pushes me to focus on my own needs. Let us pray.

Christmas in this city was hard and New Years was only slightly better. I spent christmas in a daze and many days later can't recount the events that took place. My friend Caitlin came to visit just after Christmas and that made things a bit better. As well, Chris, Rob, Ryan, Barnes and Will were in the city so there were things to do. New Years I went out with Chris Rob Caitlin and Jocelyne to a party at this girl that I only knew slightly from highschool's house. It did not go very well. Afterwards we drove to Brights Grove and went to Barnes party where a lot of creepy men kept hitting on me, Caitlin and I celebrated New Years with chronic visits outdoors and much falling over by jocelyne because she was rather intoxicated. Ryan also threw up that night and Barnes hid in his room hitting on a bunch of women. Afterwards we drove home with two extra additions in the car: Erica and Andrew, however due to space issues, Andrew was forced to ride in the trunk. Don't worry folks, he survived and we made sure to check in on him every few minutes during the trip.

Now everyone is gone, things are pretty boring. I made a 19 point to do list which looks both threatning and encouraging. I am planning to come to Ottawa to organize some things in a few days and so maybe I'll see some people while I am there. Afterwards I am planning a stop over in Toronto to visit chris and take pictures with medium format cameras in downtown toronto. I am also hoping to finally get the pictures and layout done for Dave's album; today marks the first day of shooting (hopefully.)

I wrote a poem last night, but am unhappy with it. Maybe today.

Here are some for the mood I am in:











This is just to Say
William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.







Lacking Any Plan
John Newlove.

He went home to bed
too tired to love;
tragedy for a young man,
not be upright
anymore, unable.

He had seen the ocean,
and the mermaids
talking each to each
discussed the grades
of gravel on the beach;
gone, their magic portion.

He went home to bed
too tired,
lacking any plan.

He talked to his love;
as she claimed her soul
virtuous, so she became
disgusting; her lids drooped
and her fat chin trembled;
passion ran under her face.

He does not think
the mermaids will
ever sing to him, they sing
to no one now; they spill
hard consonants and, gasping
in the waves, they sink.



December Notes
Nancy McCleery

The backyard is one white sheet
Where we read in the bird tracks

The songs we hear. Delicate
Sparrow, heavier cardinal,

Filigree threads of chickadee.
And wing patterns where one flew

Low, then up and away, gone
To the woods but calling out

Clearly its bright epigrams.
More snow promised for tonight.

The postal van is stalled
In the road again, the mail

Will be late and any good news
Will reach us by hand.