Issue 10

Winter 2014


Home Videos


Let's meet, but not at our campsite
on the south shore. (Let's leave
its best features as video.) And forget
Albert's Diner. You'd want that place
for yourself. That waitress who served raisin pie
moved farther north, heard she's married.
I once played sleuth, looked for proof
to mean noise and rumours, but you
framed your stories, not unlike the way
you shot home videos, walking backwards,
calculating frame-audio as thirty-second
happy-clips. Always at the lake, starring me
as the swimmer, birder, shell gatherer. So ordinary,
except I admit now, I buffered my stories, too.
On a a muted screen, not much is contested.
Even the gulls and dragonflies are placid.


Louisa Howerow