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From the archives

That Ever Governed Frenzy

Through the eyes of Jody Wilson-Raybould and Michael Wernick

Rumble on Parliament Hill

In the ring with Justin Trudeau

Return of the Robber Barons

Chrystia Freeland asks if we can tell “makers” from “takers” among the new super-rich

 

white doe — an albino ripple

in a brown silk banner of running deer

 

wading the Pacific in Quintera — cold paprika

ocean sparks my ankles

 

a squelch of kelp beneath my feet, memory

of a friendship’s misstep — a beach walk blurred

 

across dark pasture of parcella, jigsaw lights

blink development; blight of golden arches

 

atop the road’s rock-shoulder, sand dunes

press white cheeks into a hot blue sky

 

hoots outside my window beg me

to rise and search the nutmeg-scented dawn

 

Yvan gallops past in black sombrero,

bandana mask, toy gun raised

 

a blue bowl, two found feathers — Tucuquere [owl]

and Queltehue [lapwing] — poems stall

 

mare and slender foal — milk and toffee

under Venus and a crescent moon.

 

Cynthia French is a Newfoundlander living in rural Nova Scotia. She has been writing poems since 2006 and has been published in Riddle Fence, CV2 and The New Quarterly. Other work has appeared on the website of the League of Canadian Poets as well as in the anthologies The Wild Weathers (Leaf Press, 2012) and Untying the Apron: Daughters Remember Mothers of the 1950s (Guernica, 2013).

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