some words can make you weep, when they’re uttered, the light rap of their destinations, their thud as if on peace, as if on cloth, on air, they break all places intended and known —Dionne Brand, “Inventory”
there is magic, of course, and among the many magics there are words — spell binders, but there is also sleight-of-hand, and the magic of herbs, which perhaps a shaman knows for healing, words do not necessarily heal, they as easily arouse or wound even when unspoken, their mere thought can cause hope or despair to enter your soft heart cowardly lion behind your rib cage, some words can put you to sleep some words can make you weep, some without warning can make you laugh out loud or stun you into silence, deafen or dumb you their abracadabra can weave spells, change matter, make manna of it it is as if words were...
P.K. Page writes: “I find the glosa form intriguing, from the initial search for four stealable lines, to the almost crossword puzzle-like execution of the poem itself. A new book of glosas is my ongoing project. I have recently published a book of essays, The Filled Pen: Selected Non-Fiction (University of Toronto Press, 2006) and a book of short stories, Up on the Roof (Porcupine’s Quill, 2007). Forthcoming: Jake the Baker Makes a Cake, a children’s play in verse.
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