Erica Cameron, a Ryerson student, wrote some truly picturesque poetry in her creative writing class. Check out her submissions below.
Calling the Dog:
I am standing on the back
deck calling the dog
It is supposed to rain tonight
and I hate the way he smells
the next day, rolling himself
on the carpet and licking
You think I am performing
a childhood memory;
You see a girl on homemade swing:
legs pushed out front, skirt
flying up to her chest, golden hair
dissipating into the setting sun.
I think “This is why we won’t
make it through the lease.”
Between us there is a faint pop,
a sizzle, a mosaic of colour spread
out across the dining room table
Or maybe you are watching the
curve of my cupped hands conjuring
the darkened sky
Either way, we are both uncomfortable,
unwittingly licking ourselves in front
of each other and smelling quite bad.
I am picking July out of my hair with your mother’s rusted tweezers.
Pollen and torn grass a planetary ring around my feet.
Her cool, white housecoat feels like catastrophe; buffeting and
smothering, frenetic, against cracked skin. Sweat, in tiny silver globules,
haplessly fight back, then retreat.
Canteen blue walls expand around me, regurgitating voices
of women with hedge clippers clenched between their teeth.
I am reminded of lilies, the smell of menarche, the way the razor
feels gliding over my calve bone.
The way her water shot down on me.
A maelstrom spinning, centrifugal, on the shower floor.
Wood window wendo
won’t last the winter like this
a slap dash and it’s all bar room in here
make a move do it go ahead it gets
ugly like that
a weapon on fire
with painted war scars now
won’t help with appearances
the dock warbles
tear it down or save that build a fence
around it blood pulse burn purple pulse burn purple
we’ll look in the morning
or when we return. for now just wrap it in ice or maybe snow will work better
run off to bunk beds. they have no
mattress don’t force conversation when
rugs are available words fit so nicely
there with cookie crumbs and dust from all this sanding