A sad song drifted near

And got caught, stuck

In the spiderweb of my heart

Where I dutifully wandered

To wrap it up quick

And save it for the lean times

When I’m feeling too happy

I can take a small sip

And drift into tearful dreams

Letting the grey clouds roll in

Until suddenly,

I fall into the open earth

The next poetry collection’s cover…due out January 2026

I’m a word factory

Belching forth black

Into this digital aether

Polluting the endless net

Forging syllable after syllable

Like hot bullets for the war

I can see them fly away

Following phosphorous trails

Like white lasers through the target

It’s an imperative

It’s a necessity

It’s a kind of violence

To pour out these half formed ideas

Like hot breath on an ice cold day

And watch the sail far and away

My latest column in the Winkler Morden Voice and the Altona Rhineland Voice.

Fall in love with yourself

In the green grass of this fresh world

So that the things you seek after

Compliment previous abundance

And not react to thirsty scarcity;

Water is absorbed by a desert

As of it was never really there

But when it falls on fertile earth

This is when growth happens…

Mum pressed play

Sometime around August 1967

And the world keeps moving

Sounds like cars and screams

Sobs and cries and dogs

Or thunder and gunfire

Blend to create this

Terrestrial background noise

That surrounds like the hiss

Of a 1970s television after midnight

Telling you that time is up

Soon all things must end

You see my face

A face

Once

You think you know my story

A story

You’ve constructed the narrative

You’ve measured the worth

You think

“This person is exactly like

Everyone who looks like them”

But you don’t realize

There is no one like me

There is no story like mine

Nothing you think is real

It is all a fantasy

This post will grow over time. These are random, unbaked thoughts that spring up in my head during the conference.

• When more people are uncomfortable than comfortable, change happens…when more people are deeply uncomfortable than comfortable,  revolution happens. The work that needs to be done feels revolutionary.
• Nonprofits are mission based… mission is the mandate.
• Pursue impact, not interest.
• The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house
• Is there alignment between how you grant, how you invest and your mission statement?
• Indigenous Entrepreneurship Fund
• Indigenous Home Ownership Fund

Everything is money

Joy is money

Love is money

Life is money

Poverty is money

Gender is money

Housing is money

Food is money

War is money

Politics is money

Death is money

Life is money

Sex is money…

Everything is money

Except money

Money is mythology

Packaged as power

And consumed as a god

That we might purchase

Eternal life

There in the eyes

Are things seen

And things done

That play like old movies

Across torn screens

Forever and ever

For all to see

So we torn our heads

Avert out gaze

And hide

Choosing to stumble in the dark

Than to let people witness who we are