Category: Poetry

 Seen off; wood smoke burning, 30 years after the match; Lights in the sky… and on the heart – like spots on the lung; The sting – the burn… Breath in… Ramble On. Faint smell of roots… then the dye – dark is the light: “Oh Say Boy… Can you see?” Bottom bounces in, then…

          Today I saw a Gardener who looked like You; tied curls and brambles… I imagined for a moment that You never died; that we might revisit those hedges… should the fancy strike…   Jon Mychal / Toronto — June 14 2013 Tweet

              So lay the remains of this torn device – an esoteric look-back through time; years like kilometers, both travelled and worn. Spared the flight from reason by intentions lathered in innocuity, seasons gave way to one another in a seamless manner, while the etheric plane galvanized beneath swollen…

Drinking wine pressed from the year we split… The plump of 2013 now calls; Gorgeous layered on top of pomp — it’s a fix: Fix my disjointed fuck… my gripe… Blue skies…black hearts… I’M MOVING.   Jon Mychal / Toronto —  March 27 2013 Tweet

I didn’t think I’d wear your hat, these 3 years on… after all, I’d swam your oceans and climbed your trees decades ago… Yet it fits better and isn’t itchy any longer… all traces of You long gone.   Jon Mychal / Toronto — Jan 11 2013 Tweet