Joseph of Arimatheais riding the Carleton Street cargrail tucked in a gym bagunderneath the seat.He’s gone so far as to carry itin plain sight.A woman once asked himif he was taking a pottery class.He tried to give it to herbut she didn’t want it.Joseph of...
“Little Billy died last Sunday,” I tell my father, who’s visiting for a while during my husband’s absence. “Little Billy died last Sunday,” I tell my father, who’s visiting for a while during my husband’s absence. My father snorts. “Just like your mother. You girls!...
I never expected there would be music at this funeral. Let mortals beware Of words, for With words we lie —W. H. Auden, A Hymn to the U.N. I never expected there would be music at this funeral. Before Eric begins, he apologizes to the thirty of us gathered in the pet...
Numbers safety-pinned to matching blue tank tops, our last name, Fraser, emblazoned beneath them, my sister and I double-check that our shoes are laced tight. Attached to these laces are black chips. These chips will be used to establish our official marathon time,...
It was a day at the dead end of February that showed all variations of the colour grey: ashen branches stripped of leaves, cement-coloured clouds, steely frost, the opaque pane of ice under my feet, a window into the river translucent enough to suggest its gunmetal...
Spools of odd and even numbers knot tightly around my fingers. Fractions like hieroglyphs people the tethered pages of my grade school days. At the hub of our long-winded kitchen, turquoise table on a checkerboard floor. Mother slices red apples on a pine wood board:...
Congratulations to the winners of Room's 2011 Fiction, Poetry, and Creative Non-Fiction Contest!Our thanks to everyone who submitted their work, and to our wonderful judges: Amber Dawn (fiction), Elizabeth Bachinsky (poetry), and Susan Juby (creative non-fiction)....
this metropolis is hurly-burly— you’re striving with deadlines crosstown, half-drowned in long lists—consume that, buy this chase what’s brash and new— your strained schedule bursting with some added task always left to do while nearby, along cool paths sun sips...
Our water flows from an unnamed, underground spring. It flows downward from a point about a kilometre north-west of our home. Our water flows from an unnamed, underground spring. It flows downward from a point about a kilometre north-west of our home. We share the...
Today is one of those days of sloping light that you sometimes get when the hard edge of winter cuts into spring. Where the sun doesn’t just shine, but scuds across the fields in great golden planks. It is one of those days where mothers everywhere are nagging at...
ROOM 49.3 NO CANADA
In the new era of CanCon, as feminists and writers it is our task to reject this Canadian exceptionalism, this too-comfortable back-patting. How can we begin to imagine alternative arts economies, Indigenous economies around art, that start with treaty, that align with BDS? What art, what literature, would such a system free us to create?
Seeking members who love literature, events, merchandise, and supporting marginalized creators.
No Canada | 49.3
Price range: $15.00 through $25.00
Science | 49.2
Price range: $19.00 through $29.00
No Future For Who? | 49.1
Price range: $15.00 through $25.00
REST/UNREST | 48.3
Price range: $15.00 through $25.00
Travellers | 48.2
Price range: $15.00 through $25.00
Wits End | 48.1
Price range: $15.00 through $25.00
Full Circle | 47.4
Price range: $15.00 through $25.00
Bodies | 47.3
Price range: $15.00 through $25.00
Seedpod | 47.2
Price range: $12.00 through $25.00
Utopia | 47.1
Price range: $12.00 through $25.00
