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The Wonder of 5G
Which colour will we say they were once their skin & flesh are gone? The pigment of each iris when their sockets— cavities? Gouged by...

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17 hours ago1 min read


November Rose
It's a Jane or Johnny-come-lately, the solitary rose in my garden, a harvest holdover or belated bloom that's risen when the others have...

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4 days ago1 min read


And Then There Was Light
With your hands wrist-deep in the black of loamy soil, you tell me your infant daughter died at break of dawn, on a day that our star...

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4 days ago1 min read


My Dog was Vegetarian, or Fabric Carnations
The flowers in my house are a fraud, marigolds that never wither, forsythia forever fake with vibrant yellow that doesn’t fade, daisies...

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4 days ago1 min read


This is the Reason
I’ve never written you a love letter, as I did for the girls I crushed on in school, vowing a childish forever love. I’ve been told that...

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4 days ago1 min read


Flower Children
It’s hard to believe that crotchety old man and his wife hobbling into the store where I work were once hippies. Their faces creased like...

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4 days ago1 min read


Paris, Ontario
This one is not so Grand as its river, no Seine cutting at its heart or couples arm-in-arm amid je t’aime. We can see the eroding...

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4 days ago1 min read


Collateral Damage
We’re the collateral generation. Don’t mind the dead. They have a habit of getting in the way. Then they cry that they’ve been killed...

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5 days ago1 min read


Osmosis
The way our cat sleeps on our books has made us appraise osmosis, her head reposed on the cover’s title, her paw outstretched over the...

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7 days ago1 min read


Achilles
The name our friend has chosen for her mastiff is sublime. We wait to hear the inevitable: Achilles, heel! Almost invulnerable, were it...

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Jul 91 min read


After the Eclipse
It’s there, in our walk around the crescent, the sign a golden diamond: Blind Child Area Weathered from exposure,...

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Jul 91 min read


Yesterday
All your money won’t another minute buy. Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind. —Kansas We never should have deemed ourselves...

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Jul 31 min read


The Cone, or Empty Canvas, by Desmond El-Jardin, circa 1946
The gallery forked out millions for this thing. You chuckle, what a waste! But I say there’s no such thing as a blank & vacant canvas—...

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Jul 21 min read


Another Daring Day on the Parker Freeway
My death is 60 inches to my right. The tire of a tractor- trailer which is whirling like a drunken potter’s wheel— albeit vertically,...

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Jul 11 min read


Cat’s Game, or Playing Noughts & Crosses in the Dusk
You tell me tic- tac-toe is boring, will always end in ties, a stale- mate just like us, where nothing has been lost but never won, our...

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Jul 11 min read


Another Noah, or Shrine of the Libertines
And God made the firmament, and divided the waters under the firmament from the waters above the firmament: and it was so. —Genesis 1:7...

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Jun 301 min read


Exsanguination
You bought a dozen roses for the thorns, wrapped your palm & fingers round their spikes, the rivulets of rouge— dittoing their corolla of...

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Jun 291 min read


A Strain for Judas MacLeish
Everyone gasped in church whenever his name was voiced aloud, snubbed him during handshakes, shunned him through their coffee. The kids...

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Jun 271 min read


Colours, or the bonbons of Leopold II
When you told me the biggest human genocide took place in the “Belgian” Congo, I cursed my homeroom teacher, my biased curriculum, the...

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Jun 261 min read


Elegy for Hannah Brockman
On the day of your Bat Mitzvah, you twirled beneath the snow, your unpierced tongue extending like an ophidian from a cleft, trans- muted...

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Jun 221 min read
© 2025 Andreas Connel-Gripp. Background photo by Andreas Gripp
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