Everything’s late this year.
Nothing’s dissolved since my last visit to Waterloo—
an evening at the park staring at geese
and we took turns
pushing each other on swings,
pretending we were children.
Reading Room
504
Gymnasts are brave and like to brag about how much pain they can take. Girls who couldn’t handle it were pulled out of class and enrolled in ballet. They were going to be disappointed when they learned the truth about that one, too. I didn’t live in Mississauga but...
White marble atop the hill
Strip the skin off my body and hold me tight. Take this ugly brown shell, burn scar, thrown to sea. Let waves batter me against rocks, shark teeth ravage carcass, oil spill on pale water. Strip the skin off my body and hold me tight. Take this ugly brown shell, burn...
Caped Men
Lisa, the most beautiful cousin, the 80s flip of dark blonde hair, shiny cotton candy lip gloss, tight striped sweater, squeezing 7-year-old me in that Polaroid, my wild curly ‘fro against her cheek, she had an even, radiant smile, while I was missing four teeth. With...
my blanket.
i wear my trauma like a badge over my heart an enamel pin that tells the world i have seen hell, and i am still here i wear my trauma like a badge over my heart an enamel pin that tells the world i have seen hell, and i am still here i have survived sometimes i am...
The Sweetest One
What if three of your older siblings died at age eighteen after they left town? The narrator of Mah’s first novel, Chrysler Wong, longs to leave the fictional town of Spring Hills, Alberta, but is paralyzed by her belief in a curse against her family. By Melanie Mah,...
Homegoing
Gyasi’s debut novel, Homegoing is a timely and important contribution to literature, and to conversations about anti-black racism in popular culture . . . This novel should be read within this context, giving pause for reflection and examination on how we allowed...
a place called No Homeland
Many of Thom’s poems deploy this bold, storytelling voice, foregrounding the wisdom of what is said, experienced, lived, rumoured, and gossiped in lieu of traditional history with its myopia of normativity. a place called No Homeland consistently examines the...
Burning at the Close
Every now and then I catch it: a cluster of motes, a brown gathering at the tops of my cheekbones, age spots; grey hairs shot through with light, fibre-optic electric in the fluorescent glow of a grotty bathroom; the fleshy syncopation of my upper arm, waving a...
The Pool
I reached the shallow end and searched across the Olympic-sized pool for my father, allowing myself to hope that he had witnessed my lap. With joyful splashes, my sister and brother performed an endless series of handstands near me. Shouts and whistles bounced off the...
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ROOM 48.2 TRAVELLERS
In ROOM 48.2 TRAVELLERS we reflect, dream, manifest. Join us in these human ways of time-travelling, from infancy to the future, through relationships and into surreal realms.
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