Fortress of Louisbourg Redux

Another set of photos from my Cape Breton Trip in August 2019.  

my summer look

the bloody shepherd in the Military Chapel

dog of the bloody shepherd

wound of the bloody shepherd

toy soldiers

social distancing

live chickens – not animatronics

cannon balls

Does anyone know the story behind the wounded shepherd?

https://wp.me/s1RtxU-diop



Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees. Thanks paypal.me/TOpoet 

What the L

Jens Lekman is a Swedish singer who sings in English. I picked up couple of his cds back in 2008: Oh You’re So Silent Jens, Night Falls Over Kortedala. Have some Swedish roots I wanted to reconnect with that part of my heritage. I’d read a few reviews of him & was quite happy with his music. He is low-fi nearly folk like Postal Service. Sweet, slightly ironic songs about love & life. 

Peter LeMarc is a Swedish singer who sings in Swedish. I picked this cd, Bok med blanka sidor, up in 1997 at the Vinyl Museum in its reduced pile. Bruce Springsteen, Chris Rae come to mind when I listen to him. Gravel voice & rugged guitar playing & I have to idea what he is singing about 🙂 He’s still alive & recording.

Lifehouse’s No Name Face features their hit ‘Hanging By A Moment’ which I did like. The lp is good pop rock on the heteronormative type.  Also on the on the heteronormative  side is Gordon Lightfoot, a Canadian icon. It was only right I should have a few tracks by him. As stand alone I have Gord’s Gold; tucked away in an mp3 collection is his first lp with songs like Ribbon Of Darkness. I hate to admit it but I was never a big fan though I do enjoy what I have.

The last ‘l’ in this post is cd Load Of Wood: 3 Dollars at the Door. The third (hence 3 Dollars) in a series of compilations of Cape Breton performers. The music runs from tradition to experimental to spoken word. A friend of mine is on one of the tracks. I bought it on a visit to Sydney Aug 1999. I went to the third floor apartment of one of the performers to buy it, almost like a dope deal in the old days. I haven’t been able to track down the earlier two though. What the L.

Daddy

You can’t make it stick coppers. I was never at Hollywood and Vine at anytime. yeah, right, so don’t be giving me no hard time but if you do I can take it. I ain’t got no dna anyway so as you can tell. People say I’m bloodless as a stone and that is the truth. God’s own truth so you aren’t going to tie that rap on me I ain’t even been there and done nothing. You hear I ain’t done nothing and since when is doing nothing a crime, see. So get off my back. Cut me a break while you got time. 

No, I’m not threatening you Sgt. O’Malley, just letting you know you’re barking up the wrong hydrant. I keep my nose out of other people’s problems. Gave that up long ago. Do I look like some sort of super hero or trouble maker to you. If I do you better take closer look. 

Okay that’s close enough. 

I’m not the one. You guys know that, don’t you. So why are you giving an honest man such a hard time. I wasn’t near there. Sure I got an alibi. I was shacked up with some sharp looking piece of grade a tube stake. We was sinking our teeth into each other’s loin chops and enjoying the taste of man flesh. If you get my drift. Now, that is something you can pin me but that’s not against the law. Is it Sgt. O’Malley. 

Sure I got his name right here and more than his number on my cell phone. All time stamped and dated so you see that couldn’t of been me. Yeah the pics are a bit under lit but if you want I’ll drop my pants if you want to compare. So you can’t stick nothing me except maybe having a good time with your Dad, Sgt. O’Malley.

https://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

March

March 5 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

April
April 3 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Season 6 finales Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

May

Richard III – Stratford Festival

June

June 25-26-27 – Capturing Fire 2020 – Wooly Mammoth Theatre -Washington D.C.
 capfireslam.org 

July

All’s Well That Ends Well – Stratford Festival

Hey! You can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee

at Ted’s Bulletin in Washington DC

at 2020’s capfireslam.org – sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Undercover

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

Undercover

I wanted to throw

the math book across the room

the brown paper didn’t cooperate

as I folded it over the cover

one side was too big to fold

the other too small to cover

I tried to slide the book

so everything was even

so it would be neat tidy

the real cover protected

I wanted it to look as perfect

as the book my mother had done in minutes

 

I lacked her eye hand coordination

perfected by years of knitting

of dress making

I couldn’t even colour between the lines

now here I was

with a pair of scissors

a roll of heavy brown kraft paper

attempting to make covers

for my school books

as requested by the school

if the books weren’t kept tidy enough

we would have to pay for them

I wasn’t even supposed to write on the books

not even to underline

couldn’t dog ear the pages

 

the book refused to fit

I managed to get it wrapped

taped the corner to keep it in place

I didn’t care that it was bunched up

that there was a crease 

on the back cover

 

I tried to slide myself

through grade school

high school

so everything was even

so I would be neat tidy

bland as brown kraft paper book cover

a cover that never quite protected

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees – thankspaypal.me/TOpoet 

Picture Perfect 6

Dan walked down to the shop. Sandy and Ushio were busy with customers. Since opening the new mega-store at the FairVista Mall two years ago, business at this original location had changed considerably. Most of the advertising they were doing was now directing shoppers to the mega. This old location was now specializing in equipment repair and flash sales of soon to be discontinued camera equipment.

Dan went to the service counter to see if there were any new photo restorations for him to look over. It was the work he had done on photo restorations that lead him back to his RCMP life. The RCMP had brought in some security camera footage that needed ‘clarification.’ Pixel by pixel he had painstakingly crafted a more precise image for them. That lead him and Sandy developing a program to do just that – sharpen or delete till the image was clear.

Usually the restorations were of old wedding photos, pictures that had gotten tossed in the wash, bleached on purpose in revenge, or merely faded by time. He enjoyed the focus the work took to do successfully.

“Mr. James?” a woman in her mid-forties came up to the counter.

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“I certainly hope so.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice. “I need someone followed.”

“Your husband?” he asked.

“Yes,” she hissed back. Her hand darted from her beaded chocker to her bracelets as she talked.

“I’m sorry, we don’t don’t handle that sort of case.”

This wasn’t the first time someone had come in looking for a detective agency. James did specialize in various surveillance equipment but they didn’t do the actual surveillance themselves.

“I see.” She glared, twisting her left bracelet sharply. “Not enough money in it for you.”

“No, that’s not it not all. We only provide equipment not manpower.”

“You don’t think I’m worth the manpower or are you one of those men who think it’s okay for a husband to fool around, to lie and take advantage of women.”

“That’s not the point Ma’am.” He looked to Sandy or Ushio for some sort of backup.

“Not to you, but it is to me. So you refuse to help me. I’ll report you to the human rights commission. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I don’t deserve the same quality of service you’d gave a man.” She put her purse on the counter and began rooting through it.

“It has nothing to do with rights. It is not the kind of work we do. We deal with equipment, with photographic equipment.” He wasn’t sure how to make himself any clearer.

“That’s what I want.” She pulled her phone out of her purse, turned it on and turned it for Dan to see. “You take pictures of him, catch him at his little game, get me the proof.”

“We can provide cameras, even install them for you.”

“Install them! If I knew where he was meeting this women I wouldn’t need you to follow him to take pictures. He’s found out how to confused GPS you know.”

“Ma’am we don’t follow people.”

“Isn’t that what surveillance means?” She demanded. “It says in your advertising. Surveillance specialists.”

Was she deliberately not understanding him?

“No. It says surveillance equipment specialists. We sell, repair, maintain, but we don’t operate or even monitor the equipment.”

“I didn’t think you personally did, it but you must have employees who work your cases.”

“That’s not what we do. I can recommend a couple agencies that do what you are looking for.”

“You are like all men.” She snapped. “Offer one thing and then refuse to deliver. I’m going to report you for false advertising.”

She shut her purse and yanked it off the counter sending a display of photo albums to the floor. If the shop doors could have slammed she would have slammed them.

“So got your number bossman,” Sandy laughed. “You are like all men, promise one thing and never deliver.”

“Since when?” he asked her as he helped her straighten the photo albums.

“For one thing you said these albums would sell like hot cakes.”

“Give them time.” He muttered weakly. “Give them time.”

“I don’t know why we still carry things like this anyway?” Ushio asked. “Or even why we open up. Since the new place opened last year we’ve been getting less and less street business. I can’t remember the last time I sold something that wasn’t corporate.”

“You been talking Linda?” Closing the shop was something she was keen on. “You think she’ll hire you?”

“Ushio,” Sandy said, “she may have married your brother but trust me Itchy doesn’t want you round either.”

“It is Ichirou,” Ushio laughed. “But I always give older bother an itch. He never likes it when I do better than him. And I always do.”

“The Depot will remain opened as long as I can keep it open. Linda isn’t going to push me into closing it or selling the building either.”

“Understood.” Sandy saluted. “Time for me to see what online orders we have.” She went to the order desk and sat at her computer.

“I have that security set up to design.” Ushio bowed and backed away to his work space. “Now Dan-sai you vanish so we can get some real work done.”

Back in his third floor workshop, Dan took the east coast pictures out and spread them on the light table. His mother had picked out the location in one of them quickly. He hadn’t seen what she saw.

He swivelled the lighted magnifier over the picture of him and Timmy arm over shoulder. They were on the top steps of the porch. The bottom of the letters of the sign over the door was visible over them. So that was how his mother knew where they were. He knew the name Wickham Arms but it hadn’t occurred to him till his mother said it. 

Just hearing the name brought back a sense of the times. He didn’t have any clear memories of the days they spent packing to move, other than wishing he’d had a chance to say goodbye to Timmy. Once they had put their stuff into the car they had driven directly from Stellerton to their house in New Waterford in Cape Breton. 

His Aunt Tansy was so tearful when they told her they were moving. She’d been their housekeeper and house minder since he’d been born. She didn’t really seem to understand the great urgency, as she called it, the great urgency in their moving so far, far away. 

What was his mother not telling him? He felt she was holding something back about the move. About why they had moved.

That week they spent packing their house. Did his Dad sell it right away? He must have, because he had money for the down-payment on the shop in Toronto. He could see their furniture being carted into the moving van.

He could barely recall the drive to Toronto. Motels where they spoke French, his being car sick. He did even fight much with Linda. Wait. Linda had stayed behind, That’s right. She got to say goodbye to her friends while he wasn’t given the chance to do the same. Not that he’d had that many friends and the only one his missed was Timmy.

They stayed at some cheap motel in Mississauga for the first few weeks till his father found a sublet. It wasn’t till they had been in Toronto for two months that they moved into the third floor of the Queen Street E. building. Linda didn’t show up until then. Until she had a room of her own.

The Wickham Arms. What really happened there? Besides Timmy Dunlop going missing and no one telling me about it, ever. He did a quick online search and the Wickham Arms was still operating.

He’d never considered family as having secrets worth hiding. Maybe he was wrong. He’d have to talk to Linda next. Maybe she’d have more to tell him.

He shook off his memories and refocused on the pictures in front of him. Timmy’s wide-open eyes and sneaky grin made it hard for him to see anything else in the picture. 

He grabbed a notepad and began jotting down the details. This was what he would do if this were a crime scene photo. porch. stairs worn from use. can’t see the bottom step. wooden railing with evenly spaced slats. needs painting. to the left some wicker furniture – two chairs, a table under the window, a rocking chair in the corner. set for a view of the street. lace curtains in the window. no hanging plants.

As he made notes of the facts he drew some conclusions as to what the pictures were telling him. The Wickham Arms, even for the times, was old fashioned. The curtains were of a more conservative decade. The furniture was mismatched and also harkened back to the forties.

The boys’ clothing was dusty but not dirty. Timmy was wearing cut-off jeans that were too large for him, something from an older sibling probably and would be used for one summer only. The sheriff’s badge Tim wore was shiny and had the same moulding detail as the buttons on the vest of the other child, himself. Tim’s tee shirt was torn on the shoulder. 

In one of the other pictures the boys were horsing around the a backyard and that was probably where the tee shirt got torn. It had a cross-eyed Yoda on it with ‘care me what’ printed underneath. A Mad magazine reference?

Tim’s straw cowboy hat was pushed back on his head. There is a folded flyer tucked into the hat band. 

Dan was wearing cut-off shorts as well, his bare-legs are clear from the knees down behind the cowboy chaps he was wearing. The chaps had a cow skin pattern, fringe and metal medallions along the other edge with more fringe tied though them. A matching vest over a plain black tee-shirt. His felt cowboy hat was pushed right of his head and held around his neck by the string.

What would the other photos from the TV show tell him? He had kept the episode he’d recorded. Abstracting images from the TV wasn’t that difficult. He’d done is several times to see how it would work out. The image quality depended on the original  sources. HD broadcasts were pretty good. Black and white movies not so good. None as good as a still camera.

He made memo on his cell to check the show when he had a chance. As he entered the memo he noticed the time. He’d spent the last three hours on those photos and wasn’t even getting paid for it. 

He double checked all the Depot’s rear security on the top two floors and went down to the shop where Ushio was doing the same for the front doors. It wouldn’t do to advertise as surveillance specialists to be broken into, so the stores had state-of-the protection.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International LicenseHey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees 

 sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet 

North Sydney, Cape Breton

 

pre motherboard keyboards

state of the art teletype

red glass

candle sconce

Cape Breton Condos Complex

Affordable Cape Breton Single Family Condo

Fort Petrie Directional Aid

distances estimated not exact

https://capfireslam.org

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees &  eat at Capturing Fire this June in Washington DC – sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Secret Set Building 

Early this year I got the flyer for this month’s Secret Handshake Poetry Reading Series – even though, once again, I was incorrectly named, I decided to go ahead & altered the flyer with correct billing – which is why I’m in the pink 🙂 Things like this make the issue of misgendering very real to me.

It’s been some years since I’ve done a feature (& at the last I had similar name issues.) One host told me TOpoet.ca was too self-promoting! I’ve never seen this list of performers: readings by X, X, X etc. All readings are self-promotion, so fuck right off you sanctimonious dick head. If I sound like a diva, don’t act surprised 🙂

Now that the diva’s out of the way – I’ve started set building for the show. I’ve gone through the last couple of months of pieces prompted by the Rules For Monks. So there will be several very fresh pieces in the set. Some of these were also influenced by my stay in Sydney – my ho town, I mean, home town in Cape Breton. In particular the nature of the culturally instilled masculinity/femininity that children never question but struggle with fulfilling. Pieces that haven’t seen been featured on the blog yet.

 

Part of the set will be out of the 2008 archives that I’ve been shifting through to include in my Monday posts. The archaeological dig of the massive pile of piece that has been getting deeper & bigger & left to ferment. As I don’t write as often as I once did it was time to actually look at what I forgotten – once I get through the typos it I have to scour my memory to figure out ‘what the hell was I getting at.’ It is rewarding. Once 2008 is done I may go back to 1998 🙂

As usual the most demanding decision will be what to wear 🙂

this may show up in the set:

What To Wear

does this fit

does it look good on me

do I look sane in it

does it turn you on

do I look educated in this

does it suit the occasion

will it get me laid

can it open doors for me

will it need to be ironed

can I wear it in public

will it turn heads

does it make me look old

look desperate

does it come in other colours

maybe a size larger

does it make up for my lack of style

do I have the guts to wear it

does it wear me

will it last longer than a glance

is it why you want me

am I anything without it

can it be replaced

can it replace me

excuse me 

while I slip into something 

more comfortable

https://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

January
Thursday January 23 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre – featuring ‘Yes The Poet’ https://www.facebook.com/events/577900226377507/ 

Sunday –  January 26 – 1:30 – feature: The Secret Handshake Gallery, 170A Baldwin (Kensington Market) – 1:30https://www.facebook.com/events/498405247456842/

March
March 5 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

April
April 3 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Season 6 finales Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

May

Richard III – Stratford Festival

June  – Capturing Fire 2020 – Washington D.C.  capfireslam.org 

July

All’s Well That Ends Well – Stratford Festival

Hey! Or you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2020’s capfireslam.org – sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Picture Perfect 1

1

“You’re not listening to me.” Sanjay took the remote from Dan and muted the TV.

“I was.” Dan grabbed the remote. “You said my sister had a good point.”

“But you are going to ignore her?” Sanjay tried to get the remote back before Dan could turn the sound back on.

“Some thing don’t change.” Dan  blocked Sanjay’s hand looked him in the eyes and kissed him. “If I had listened to her, we would not be together. You know she thought that you weren’t a point in my favour.”

“So you keep telling me.” Sanjay pushed Dan away from him, got up from the couch and stood in front of the TV.

“Sanj, If you want to distract me you’ll have to drop your drawers.”

“We’re talking a lot of money, Dan. A lot of money.”

“I’m not paying for you to drop them. Now, step away from the TV. I was watching something.”

“You’re always watching something when I want to talk to you. You’ve recorded this anyway, so you can go back to it.”

“You asked me to clear things off the pvr, remember. Now that I’m trying to, you want to talk me.” Dan hit pause. “You’re the reason I don’t think we need a cat.”

“What?”

“Cats ignore you until you are trying to do something and they are all over you and whatever you are trying to do.”

“You wish.”

“This is nearly over anyway. Ten minutes.” he unpaused. “Step aside?”

He pressed the back button to rewatch what he’d missed talking to Sanjay.

“What’s it about anyway?” Sanjay sat beside him.

“Missing kids on the east coast.”

“I should have known.”

“Yeah, everything is homework for … hey! That’s me!” Dan hit the pause button.

It was a photo of two boys on the front steps of a house. Arms over each other shoulders, grinning at the camera.

“You sure aren’t missing.” Sanjay said.

“Yeah yeah I know. It’s the other boy Timmy Dunlop. I guess.”

“Guess? I thought you were watching this.”

“You mean, trying to watch. My Dad took this picture. I remember it. It’s been years since I’ve seen it though.”

“Yeah, right. How many photographs have you seen?”

“Enough, but some you remember. I sort of had a crush on Timmy. We played doctor a couple of times. When we moved I kept hoping to hear from him but nothing.”

“I guess you know why now.” Sanjay stretched his arms over his head. “I’m heading for bed. I will leave you to your homework.”

Any reality show dealing with crime was considered Dan’s homework. He saw things in photographs that most didn’t see. His eyes had been trained to discover and recognized what might appear ordinary to the untrained eye.

He went back to the beginning of the program ‘Canada Cold’ that looked at cold cases across Canada. He’d worked such cases when he was with the RCMP and that had solidified his interested in them. This episode was about the disappearance of several children in the Maritimes in the mid-80’s. Dan had no recollection of this case at all. His family had moved when he was eleven, the same summer of these disappearances.

As he watched he jotted down the names and locations of the children. None struck a chord with him expect Timmy’s. The place name were familiar, Stellerton, Digby, Wolfville in Nova Scotia; Small Town & Port Something in New Brunswick. His Dad had been an itinerant photographer, “Photos By James”, who travelled from school to school, taking class pictures and individual portraits. For summer’s he would take the family with him, spending a day or two, or up to a week in various small towns. 

Dan pulled himself out his reflective daze. Replayed the ending of the show again and wrote down the number one was to call if they had any information. He’d call once he had found those photos. Stellerton had been one of the longer stays and one of the last as he recalled. 

They’d been there long enough for him to renew his friendship with some of the boys he’d palled around with the previous summer. His family left pretty quickly. He remembered being pretty pissed because the Happy Hippo Carnival had just set up and he wanted so badly to go it. 

Moving to Toronto wasn’t as important to him then as seeing the sideshows. Even his sister was nosily disappointed, but that was because she was seeing some guy their mother didn’t approve of. He figured that was why they were really moving and for years blamed her for ruining his childhood.

“You coming up or am I coming by myself?” Sanjay called from the top the stairs.

In the morning Dan ate without noticing what he was eating. His folks must have known about Timmy disappearing. Why hadn’t they told him. He’d written Timmy letters from Toronto but never got a reply. Did those ever get mailed? 

“He must have been something special?” Sanjay nudged Dan’s shoulder as he offered to refill his coffee cup.

“Who?” Dan waved the coffee away. “I’ve had enough.”

“The lad in the picture. You are thinking about him, aren’t you?”

“Some, but more about why I didn’t know what happened until now. I was so heartsick about him but I let my folks think I was homesick for Cape Breton.”

“How old were you?”

“Only eleven.”

“Still carrying that flame?”

“No! I haven’t really thought about Timmy or those days until last night. I’m surprised I recognized his face.”

“It was yours that you recognized first.”

“Yeah, well, there were so few pictures of me, I mean just of me, without Linda lurking in the background. She invented photo bombing because they was no way Dad could take a picture if she was around without her getting in on it. Nearly all my baby pictures show either her or my mother holding me.”

“So, that’s when the rivalry started.”

“Oh yeah, I wasn’t out of the womb before she was making sure she got as much attention as she could. I better get going. Time to open shop. I’m seeing Warszawa this afternoon. I’ll ask him what he thinks I should do.”

“The RCMP do come in handy sometimes.”

“You working today?”

Sanjay was a pastry chef at two different restaurants and Dan was never sure which one he was working at on which day. Neither was Sanjay somedays.

“If I was I’d been gone by now, right?”

“No. You work evenings more and more.”

“Miss me?”

“You know I do.” He pulled Sanjay tight for a long kiss.

“Today’s the day the animal people are coming. Raccoon in the eaves.”

“Right. What’s that going to cost us I wonder.”

“At least a week of night shifts for me.”

“And two high-end digitals for me.”

“I thought your sister had that commission market cornered.”

“So she does but you know what I mean.”

Dan finished his coffee.

“I’ll be biking today so you can use the car.”

He leaned over Sanjay, kissed him while sliding one hand down his chest to squeeze his partner’s balls.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International LicenseHey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees 

 sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet 

Rotary Park 

I have fond memories of Rotary Park  when growing up in Sydney. It was just far enough to make it a trek but not so far one couldn’t get there by bike. It was the city reservoir & locals would picnic out there & swim. Needless to say it has become more urban wild than woodsy wild – with actual gravel trails – we only had beaten paths in the olde days 🙂

Entrance – Greenlink refers to trails

spray pledged forever love

shale & aspen

Greenlink map – note no Tim Horton’s !

the lake/pond?

water over the dam

teens hanging out at the top of the dam

wild blueberries – yes I ate some –

we would come here as kids to fill buckets with them

more water over the dam

https://wp.me/s1RtxU-diop

Bye Bye 2019

Over the past year my TOpoet.ca following blog grew from 298 to 363! That’s 65 new followers without me going out of my way beyond blogging regularly. The only stat WP doesn’t give is where the followers are located but WP map does show my hits have come from 91 countries around the world. That India tops the list is interest but that Bangladesh & Kenya are in the top 10 is a surprise. Kazakhstan! Kuwait!

My Tumblr is at 255. I no longer post there as regularly after the ‘porn’ crack down that had my pictures of random toys, or lost shoes, red flagged as being possibly against community standards. I didn’t have the energy keep asking for a review of the flag. Twitter 217 followers. Yes – my account was un-suspended after my appeal. Seems my hashtags were inappropriate for some reason. #Whatever.

2019 has been a pretty good year for me. Health has been good. Finances have been stable. Finished the edit & blogging of Coal Dusters. I hate to bring it to an end as I really loved these characters – but their stories had been told. Response was good for the novel. There’ll probably be another revision if I get back to again. Next up is Picture Perfect.

The other highlight of the year was my visit to Cape Breton where I had a great time with my sister – she loves to drive – with some old friends & also just on my own. Revisited old schools, churches of my past, took lots of photos & lost weight!! I also took my favorite photo of 2019 while at Fort Petrie.

Saw great shows at the Stratford Festival (my fav Nathan The Wise) & disappointing show at the Shaw (Mae West’s Sex was given a frenetic but poorly performed production.) Already have some shows booked for the 2020 Stratford season.

The big event for 2020 will be the 10th Anniversary of Capturing Fire in Washington DC. I do hope to get there, if I can afford it & before the Trump implosion closes the borders to the unemployed sneaking in to steal jobs. paypal.me/TOpoet I’ll be booking my trip once the dates are confirmed. 

https://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

January
Thursday 23 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre – featuring ‘Yes The Poet’ https://www.facebook.com/events/577900226377507/ 

March
March 5 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

April
April 3 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Season 6 finales Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

May

Richard III – Stratford Festival

June  – Capturing Fire 2020 – Washington D.C.  capfireslam.org 

July

All’s Well That Ends Well – Stratford Festival

Hey! Or you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2020’s capfireslam.org – sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Coal Dusters – Chapter LXX Birk’s Rude Awakening

Coal Dusters: Book 1 is now available as as PDF – this covers the first 35 chapters – 65540 words – send $1.99 to  paypal.me/TOpoet

Coal Dusters – Chapter LXX

Birk’s

Rude

Awakening

#Toronto #Wordpress #coalmine #amwriting #gayromance #lgbtq #nanowrimo #CapeBreton #novel #Ontario

Birk could hear his mother downstairs in the kitchen. Singing “Bringing in the sheaves” as she clanged the stove top covers. He could still feel Clancy’s hands on him, feel the slide of their tongues  in each others mouths as they kissed. They had started out in the front bedroom Clancy was to use but ended up back in Birk’s room in the bed that was familiar to them.

He rolled onto his back and stretched his arms and legs as far as he could on either side. The bed was cool where he expected to feel the heat of Clancy. There was no one there with him.

“Clancy?” He sat up. He pulled on his pants and went to Clancy’s bedroom. It was empty. The drawers were open and empty. There was nothing in the closet either. On the pillow was a note. 

“Birk

I’ve got too much to do with my life. It wouldn’t be fair to you let my feelings keep me where I don’t want to be. When I can I’ll be back. If I can’t come back I’ll never forget you, you hairy monkey.

Clancy”

#Toronto #Wordpress #coalmine #amwriting #gayromance #lgbtq #nanowrimo #CapeBreton #novel #Ontario

Birk could hear his mother downstairs in the kitchen. Singing “Bringing in the sheaves” as she clanged the stove top covers. He could still feel Clancy’s hands on him, feel the slide of their tongues  in each others mouths as they kissed. They had started out in the front bedroom Clancy was to use but ended up back in Birk’s room in the bed that was familiar to them.

He rolled onto his back and stretched his arms and legs as far as he could on either side. The bed was cool where he expected to feel the heat of Clancy. There was no one there with him.

“Clancy?” He sat up. He pulled on his pants and went to Clancy’s bedroom. It was empty. The drawers were open and empty. There was nothing in the closet either. On the pillow was a note. 

“Birk

I’ve got too much to do with my life. It wouldn’t be fair to you let my feelings keep me where I don’t want to be. When I can I’ll be back. If I can’t come back I’ll never forget you, you hairy monkey.

Clancy”

– the end –

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees 

 sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet