Alden Nowlan
A Certain Kind of Holy Men
Not every wino is a Holy Man. Oh, but some of them are. I love those who’ve learned To sit comfortably For long periods with their hams Pressed against their calves, Outdoors, With a
The Bull Moose
Down from the purple mist of trees on the mountain, Lurching through forests of white spruce and cedar, Stumbling through tamarack swamps, Came the bull moose To be stopped at last by a pole-fenced
A Mysterious Naked Man
A mysterious naked man has been reported On Cranston Avenue. The police are performing The usual ceremonies with coloured lights and sirens. Almost everyone is outdoors and strangers are conversing Excitedly As they do
The Masks of Love
I come in from a walk With you And they ask me If it is raining. I didn’t notice But I’ll have to give them The right answer Or they’ll think I’m crazy.