We could shut the door / on this vertigo, but Mother when we / come to ourselves our feet skim the tiles./ Spoons shine on the table, and Mother, / we're dancing. I'm mouthing the words / to a song I never knew...
Born in Montreal, July 1, 1944. I graduated from nowhere and though I've had more jobs than the guy on the back of the bookcover I've managed to stay mainly unemployed throughout and am really (I swear) a poet, artist, raconteur, bon vivant and one of the