FathomOnline

 

 Fathom 1995

Cover

 

Inside Cover

 

Poetry

Graham Touchie (4)
Jay White
Jacob Towers
Peggy Apostolides
Erica Spenser
M.M.
Kathy Mac (4)
T. Gaoh
Rob Hutten
Guillaume van Moorsel

Prose

Karen Smith
M.M.
C.A. Garbutt
Urs Frei

[PDF]

Kathy Mac

 

 

Driving toward a celestial event

Some astronomical catwoman sheds
her wet-look bodysuit –
this intersection a claw-raked sleeve,
four ribbons joined by tail light reflections,
visual sirens that rip up the road ahead

I drive toward a flashing glimpsed darkness

turn where lives once disappeared
between stone and the metal armor
of a sixteen year old immortal.

But in the morning the sun writes a road
across a playful ocean’s back,
dims and diminishes in taillights,
points out lightning
                     usually misses.

 

Quartz, death, and absence

A hunk of quartz gravel smirks at me
muddy centre promising as chocolate
but without a box-lid map to tell what’s in there,
it smirks, I smirk it, lend it the ability to be smug
at my ridiculous curiosity, salt-crystal opaque.

stone doesn’t know structure
pure or flawed, cut or cracked
it just is, like someone dead isn’t. Just isn’t.

Unlike someone gone, who still knows
but I don’t know what.
I refuse to assume I understand.

Instead, impute smug gravel
tell the dead like an unwearable rosary
and try to forget what I thought I knew about you.

 

Growing Dead

    only to themselves
truly gone. No strength
in their numbers
               except here,
where they are not: here
power lies in absence, in subtract-
­tion
     and that relies on our concern.
No one I know has the energy
to be haunted or even
mourn those without time
                        when those
absent within time
                   demand so much.

 

Remember
Paige Newton
1954-1994

Fingers that furrow blind through a cat’s fur,
or trace the crooked edges of a cloth
handwoven of hybrid yards and wild colour –
­precious metal next to mohair next to dross –

evoke dark hair, pug nose, a near-gaunt face
angled to the ceiling with mock hauteur
that clothed a clenching tension she’d release
first with a feral grin, then wild laughter.

Aloe. Patchouli. Sandalwood. Vervain.
A witch’s brew to keep her pain at bay,
superceded slowly and in. vain
by doctors’ medicines that held her grey

But Paige moved best through brightness, high contrast
Fierce light between hard lines, dyed deep and fast.

 

last updated August 17, 2007 | © 2007 Fathom Publishing
poetry, prose, and artwork © individual authours | website created by Alana Paul