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Q&A: Paul Vermeersch talks self-fulfilling prophecies, science fiction, and his new poetry collection

RM Vaughan sits down with the poet to chat about Self Defence for the Brave and Happy

RM Vaughan

The great French novelist Andre Malraux once declared that “the 21st century will be spiritual or will not be,” a sentiment undoubtedly shared by many who lived under the shadow of the Cold War’s mushroom clouds. Paul Vermeersch’s beautiful new book of poems, Self Defence for the Brave and Happy posits that the 21st century […] More »
September-October 2018

Ibu Saudara Isteri

New poetry by Tess Liem

Tess Liem

Aunt Hwie, (like we) was, I learned, aunt Hoei (like oui) was bibi Hoei to me and The Thian Hoei (like thé, tiens, oui) Father, took Joseph in English, is Sioe An (like Sue Ann), is bapak to me, & we spelled her name wrong repeatedly. Uncle, took Joseph in English too, is Sioe Siet […] More »
September-October 2018

Learning to Swim

Poetry by Henry Noble

Henry Noble

Listen to music too loudly / Sing along to songs I don’t know the lyrics to / Get stoned and turn into a fiery ball of Love / Kiss my best friends square on the mouth / Drink water, gotta stay hydrated / Hate everything I write / Love everything you write / Sleep off […] More »
September-October 2018

Celebrating Indigenous writers and artists: A special feature

Featuring Gwen Benaway, Kai Minosh Pyle, Lindsay Nixon, Ziibiwan Rivers, Fallon Simard, Jaye Simpson, and Arielle Twist

This Magazine

EXPLORE THE FEATURE: Editor’s note by Gwen Benaway ● Prose by Kai Minosh Pyle ● Interview with Lindsay Nixon ● Visual art by Fallon Simard ● Interview with Ziibiwan Rivers ● Prose by Jaye Simpson ● Poetry by Arielle Twist A note from the editor: When I was asked to guest edit an Indigenous-specific supplement for This, my first instinct was […] More »
July-August 2018

Kreuzberg

New poetry by Jake Byrne

Jake Byrne

The blond Australian’s jaw is clenched in ecstasy. His jaw is clenched as if to say I’m having so much fun you can see it in my face. With a kshink! I pass my retractable claws right through his thorax. He hugs me and his staleness is battery acid. Cultural capital is the only capital. […] More »
July-August 2018

Mama’s Routine

New poetry by Fazeela Jiwa

Fazeela Jiwa

4 A.M: Awaken. Move slowly to preserve the dream. When it fades, sit up. Meditate on one word for one hour. 5 A.M: Exercise. If bones crack during yoga, use the elliptical first. 6 A.M: Wash, after listening for son’s truck to rumble alive and leave for the day. Bless his inherited armour skin. 7 […] More »
July-August 2018

I Am Almost Ready to be Analyzed

New poetry by Adam Sol

Adam Sol

The main thrust of the argument                    was that she was cold and he was an empty can of cream soda.                    Yellow jackets hummed around his gaping mouth, sampling his sugar.                    Or else she was hang gliding over treacherous cliffs while he                    refolded the family chute. She never let him see her without                    her headband on, […] More »
May-June 2018

U

Poetry by A. Light Zachary

A. Light Zachary

Yes, we’re bored—& if I could emotionally afford to leave & if your homeland weren’t burning, I would let you lead me south to one of those dozen American towns called The Palisades— make a life where the close of day, from our chrome balcony, would look like a glitter-bomb lobbed at the horizon— we’d […] More »
May-June 2018

My Teeth are Tombstones With Your Name Engraved on Them

New poetry by Kayla Czaga

Kayla Czaga

I am standing in a cemetery eating a breakfast burrito, Kyla. In its aesthetic wisdom the city irrigates this cemetery by pumping water through black tubes so that our dead, however problematically they lived, god rest them, will reincarnate as big dead trees with burgundy rotting blossoms. Don’t worry, Kyla— I know how death works. […] More »
May-June 2018

How one Toronto poet’s work has opened up conversations on mental health

Meet Sabrina Benaim

Michelle Cyca

Poetry isn’t a vocation associated with typical career paths, but even so, Toronto-based poet Sabrina Benaim’s journey has been unusually meteoric. In 2014, she performed a poem called Explaining My Depression to My Mother at the National Poetry Slam in Oakland, California. “Mom, my depression is a shapeshifter,” she begins in the video that has […] More »
March-April 2018

Head Pressed to Stone at St. Vincent de Paul Cemetery

Poetry by Shane Neilson

Shane Neilson

I say your name and I do grieve. All names dredge the deep, but they fail to take heed and sprout. Hereabouts, mustard seed got choked by conglomerate needs rendered too economic. Scrub grass debriefs our fields. Old Dutch farmers sing about crop yield and claim to have never yielded, but wrote wills to sons […] More »