folio : (further) short takes on the prose poem
How to catch flamboyant
bohemians
You will need to invest in noisy sheets. The leaf rustle of Belgian linen will alert you to tossing and turning. And, like garden netting used to protect and cover, there will be a temporary reprieve in which to assess and realize you are misled in your search for rhythm in bedding. Your best hope is to find jazz joints frequented by silver-buttoned black satin waistcoats. Silent, sullen and smirking into their poetry and drawings.
9th floor at 110 St. Clair
Avenue
My grandfather was a judge. My mother addressed my postcards to him as His Honour. I was born on his 70th birthday. His first grandchild. When I was 10 I started having sleepovers at his apartment. I slept on the bed with my grandmother. He slept on the couch. He let me put garbage down the incinerator in the chute just outside his door and I would often hear someone playing a piano in another apartment. One day as my grandfather and I were waiting for the elevator someone came out into the hall. “Good Morning Judge” “And a Good Morning to you, Mr. Gould”
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Heather Cadsby is the author of five books of poetry. The most recent is titled Standing in the Flock of Connections (Brick Books, 2018). She is the co-founder with Maria Jacobs of Wolsak and Wynn Publishers.
