Translated by Simon Brown from Laurence Gagné
you’re the little guy in the wall
me i wonder what really comes through
i’m just like
hey come on through
Greetings, dear readers!
I’m currently writing this editorial in Montréal at my family’s dinner table with the back door open and a slight breeze rustling papers next to me. It’s still a bit brisk with spring on its way out but I’ve been admiring the recently bloomed peonies in our garden.
Translated by Simon Brown from Laurence Gagné
you’re the little guy in the wall
me i wonder what really comes through
i’m just like
hey come on through
Translated by Paul Curtis Daw from Jean-Paul Didierlaurent
Twelve years. Already I’ve been here twelve years. Thanks to Maria, the older of my two daughters. Oh, that didn’t all happen overnight with a simple snap of the fingers. I struggled, I fought. In the early days, I managed to push back the deadline, despite my daughter’s ever more numerous arguments.
Read MoreTranslated by Neil Smith from Philippe Chagnon
About two to four weeks before I went to live for good in our storage room, I was spinning lettuce in the salad spinner. Margot had asked for a hand with supper. I didn’t feel like it, kept stalling, and she flipped out at me (I wanted to help, but at my own pace). The day after this latest blow-up, I made a decision: I’d start gradually moving my things into our junk room behind the kitchen.
Read MoreTranslated by Philip Styrt from Clément Marot
Love and Death each me profanes:
For Love has tangled me in chains