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POEM: “Suzanne of Montreal” — My arms started flailing at your mention! / My eyes welled up teary at reflection!

Suzanne of Montreal (a poem for no one but Montreal) Oh well, yesterday I talked of you. My feet foot steps soles up on my desk And I told her of you: I was OVERTAKEN! My arms started flailing at your mention! My eyes welled up teary at reflection! Oh how we walked together after […]

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POEM: “Clean” — I’m innocent / to the man who loves me. / For the ones who don’t – / I’m square.

Clean I’m innocent to the man who loves me. For the ones who don’t – I’m square. I’m virtuous to the man who cares for me. For those ones who don’t – I’m slow. I’m beautiful to the man who sees me. For those ones who don’t – I’m hot. I’m everything to the man […]

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POEM: “Asking For Flowers” — lest they be allergic to flowers / and are fake / as air fresheners.

Asking For Flowers He said my kisses were too wet Too sweet, and spat in my mouth to show me. He wanted me not to wear leggings and my wife beater to make supper: be feminine. Our kiss in the photo was slim and dry, paranoid and reserved. Like him. My style most times was […]

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POEM: “From the Kiss In The Garden to the Station” — Could his making love free my prison and bar you for all intrusions?

From the Kiss In The Garden To the Station We thought is was Hermes Something bought in England Or maybe with the hot girlfriend You had in Istanbul one season. But it was faint and I never smelled it again. And in the summer sweat of you at 20 I smelled him and it never […]

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POEM: “Maybe, Baby” — I’ll look after the FOH / While you go mental on some aspect.

Maybe, Baby And even in the gore… And before the stories, poems, lore… And like some times before… I still brought you water. You laid in the bed and watched as I packed a suitcase, shocked. I paused, got you water and came to touch your shoulder. “My poor dear” is what I thought. “You […]

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POEM: “Illiterate” — It’s a dead language now

Illiterate I was completely illiterate. But you spelled it out in black and white! Despite such clarity – our decisiveness had such subtexts like regrets. It’s a dead language now that does not exist. I’m to make way for the archeo-anthropo-logist decoding scratches scriptures, hints into some existence persists like infection. It’s a dead language […]

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POEM: “Peanut Butter” — Why pay more? / Why absorb more than you should handle?

Peanut Butter In time you’ll know where to buy the cheaper peanut butter and bags of spices just like one day, you’ll wake up or maybe it’ll be as you’re going to bed and realize: you are over him. Not from grand therapeutic solution or a magnificent, inspiring conversation nor through delusion of the hot […]

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POEM: “Rue” – In grand loves lost – or forgotten those of the past – or rotted I have come to understand…

Rue In grand loves lost – or forgotten those of the past – or rotted I have come to understand that perverted “love” dominates and good love permeates. Like addictions to make-ups or expensive jeans a love for these things takes over senses – and your bank account. You look beautiful. But you are stupid. […]

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Sylvie appears on Montreal Podcast – “Late Night Poutine”

So excited to join the Two Fingers Gun Club for the first ever episode of Late Nite Poutine, where we talk about the different layers of life – including mine as a writer, teacher, civil servant, lover of music, and so much more!

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POEM: “Ms Shiva Shiva vs The Train Wreck” — and the famous one between us / was the one doing the rescuing.

Ms Shiva Shiva vs The Train Wreck Oh, I how I wanted to carry her case and get her water. Support Ms Shiva as she walked across with her camera on the dance floor. Filming the rockstars and documenting their looks and I love to do that in writing, PR, and hooks. (And for you […]

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