what i remember about montreal, 2011

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the radio was on when we were crossing the bridge
and you thought their french
sounded funny

trying to look around,
observe things
at stoplights
through chinatown
to the latin quarter

i remember getting bagels
and that cafe with all the plants
that was just perfect
a picture of a window
with rectangles of
construction paper
behind the glass,
evenly spaced
colours i liked

season colours-
things we wore-
my brown boots
and you in my
yellow sweater
often
a diner
sitting in the window booth
up front
coffee
and back then
i think we took it
with cream

walks
always walks
the spiral
staircases
the bricks paintings
on the walls
a shoestore named
yellow,
that sign OMMA
with the floral
letters

i think we took
your car
i assume
we went to a bakery
because that’s
what we love,
loved.

this city’s great
thinking yeah yeah
this is great
turning a corner and
yeah, maybe one day
i’ll move here

leaves dropping
in the backgrounds
of things-
a gentle
autumn snow

park bench
kinder egg
in all the pictures
your eyes, they’re closed

nova scotia, september 2011

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going north
and then let’s
go farther-
halifax,
katie and abe
trans canada highway
trees forever
on both sides.

cape breton
cabot trail
big sighs
and quiet
looking
wooden
houses and boats
in the front yards
prairies
on top mountains
at meat cove
cheticamp,
iginosh
highlands
cove,
ocean playground.

middlehead trail
and waterfalls running
into the sea
my friend
in a red hood
giggling
and sometimes
we are just
seven
years old.

we take turns
driving, napping
your pearl earrings
avocado
in the grass

new brunswick wide
road small
hills, border
signs for bangor
lewiston auburn
almost home.

we did not see wild horses.
or moose.
i’m trying
to not feel disappointed
about that.

leaving providence

image

things in boxes
that used to hold pears
and i am scrubbing cabinets
window panes hallway
floors thinking i’ve hated
this house thinking
yes, i’ve loved
this house

at work cleaning out
another locker, another
family now floating –

wade
with the blue eyes,
kind seth, and leanne
who always said,
“what a nice lady.”
the sues, and steve just
something about that man
i loved

u-haul, strange
to own furniture and everything’s
loaded and i don’t even stop
for a last look i just
completely forgot

new years eve, 2010

swiss beer fondue
german champagne
bûche du noël

small unpackings
the necessary ones
forks and plates
plugging in lamps
arranging
the living room
our mattress still
in the center you
asleep and i’m nudging
whisper hey it’s almost
midnight-

los angeles, 2007

rachelkirsmetro

melancholy play
hollywood
metro, sierra villa
park and ride
lolita

los angeles, 2010

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meganpregnant2big

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steve picks me up
grey toyota, hair
coloured
of california daytime.
sirens loud,
surrounding.
to highland park, ash
street, to megan’s stomach
stretching to hold
something round, like
the sun’s 
inside.

baby names –
elouise or pony.
freaks and geeks
potato salad
pinkberry

late mornings, afternoons
i think, hymn
california – cotton
woods, juniper
golden hills, everything
dry, but ripe how badly
i wanted to leave
four years, two years
ago, now sitting
looking around missing
it all

bending 110 freeway
taco trucks
citrus

we are driving to altadena
wind blowing the hollow
in my ears, and the one story
bungalows pass
like a filmstrip
with wind chimes
and tired paint.

cheese store of silverlake
the little alley of fairbanks
place, a place
of her own, a breakfast
nook, cats, something
stitched, big red
poppy, leaning
against the wall.

a patio, a view
you can even see
the hollywood sign.
the front room is dim
a record playing
couch low, we sit
and she tells me
in a maroon dress
what happened
her weeks
on heroine.

outside it is bright
she is shading her eyes.

meadowlarks
small sorrow
pilgrim
enduring
recover
sequoia

october 10th, 2012

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poetess
low contrast
car troubles
controlled hallucinations
the autobiography of a fever

maine, january 2012

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field notes
yellow threaded quilts
groceries
champagne
copycats
clouded
pinhole

at last, snow
plows fumbling
down streets

a memory theatre
things by my bedside
teabags, barrettes
things in the corner
all the same colour
suitcase, type
writer wooden box
bright pale blue, there-
like siblings.

snow funny under
in my navy madeline
coat, on ice shuffling
today missing
my dad.

memories of the future
how remembering one thing
is at least two
things.

monet- boulevard st.denis,
argenteuil, in winter (1875)