1. Sauntering down Aisle 6 at the 24-hour Dominion grocery store, Lee is cradling an overly large zucchini. It sits inside the sleeve of his thick pea-green parka, where he is pretending to house a broken limb . . .

Author of the Month: Zoe Whittall


Tell us about yourself. I’m a novelist and poet. I sometimes write for film and television, and freelance as a literary critic. I’m a cat lady. I live in Toronto. When did you realize you had a passion for writing? When I was about 12 years-old I was a voracious reader, and in grade six I became obsessed with writing “novels.” They were basically long short stories, hand-written, and bound between thick pieces of wallpaper samples and stapled together . . .

Good Set

The delicate treble falters uneasily Above the empty acres of an endless chasm Where we know some low end should be. It finally falls flat on the ears Of sharp listeners Who see the damp back of the bass player As he frantically fiddles with knobs and switches . . .

A Portrait of a Lady

I’ve been sitting on this leather bench in this cold, sterile room for a half-hour or so, just looking at you. You’re leaning forward in your chair, wearing a single pearl that hangs straight down on a thin, silver necklace in front of your chest, clad in some funny colour scheme . . .

It’s True (I Saw It on the Internet)


“Do the math, it’s a false flag And don’t even get me Started on the moon landing,” He spits, alongside clots of chew, His mesh-backed trucker hat Sideways. (it’s how he does his thinkin’) Conspiracy theories elevated to Gravity or evolution, He says he’s learned his ABC’s, 1-2-3’s and Ben-gha-zi’s No— It’s your theory . . .

Business Sense

Next level company bonding At the annual retreat— This year, they have a Red Tent and childbirth simulation For the male employees. Don’t like the direction the Company is taking? Maybe you just can’t handle The pain of labour I hear they’re forcing everyone to be Wholesome and whole-grain Because last year they hogtied Hodgson as a “trust” activity and He popped a tent that wasn’t for sleeping . . .