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From the archives

The Trust Spiral

Restoring faith in the media

Our Feudal Immigration Policy

Why should an accident of birth determine who benefits from citizenship?

Liberal Interpretations

Making sense of Justin Trudeau and his party

 

Tea, sex and whiskey. The dog’s snores

as he runs through the field of my sleeplessness,

paws twitching over each blade of grass.

 

But even breathing

pulleys my head

from the pillow, my mind

wedged open with stars. The field, its moon a husk,

 

a tooth I run my tongue round

endlessly. Bordering a street

where night animals cross safely,

 

where a couple travels the sidewalk, hand in hand.

And my cheek, next to yours, slackens against

 

the pillowcase. What cures?

 

Elizabeth Ross has published poetry in literary magazines across Canada. Her work has been longlisted for the CBC Poetry Prize and selected for inclusion in Best Canadian Poetry 2013. This poem is from her first collection of poetry, which Palimpsest Press will publish in 2015. She lives in Toronto, where she teaches English and creative writing at OCAD University.

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