Grandfather’s Axes
One belonged to a grandfather who wore ugly sweaters
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One belonged to a grandfather who wore ugly sweaters
Read MoreWithin our borders, / your hair frays cirrus into sky, while that bride, / so serious in every photo, never had to be you.
Read MoreWalrus Poetry Prize judge Hoa Nguyen on what’s important when it comes to writing and assessing poems
Read MoreMy father built ships in bottles, histories in aquariums, filled the second-storey guest room with Waterloo reconceived in Plasticine. Each miniature world was malleable, rippled by his fingers’ ridges, dimpled …
Read MoreWinner of the 2014 Walrus Poetry Prize Pine plosives, alveolar carpentry: my life, lived like an elaborate glove. Tilt my head, a pale seashell scribed by lathe, and listen to …
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