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.
by Simone Person
and smiles a poplar-teeth chorus. with a sawed-off stare,
he adorns us queen, as in Black, as in his. names it admiration,
a burnt-cork offering, says if we’re smart, we’ll take it.
before he loses interest. his reminder of what he’s culled,
