Memoir | poemimage

Category: Memoir

GIF Experiments: 20 (Put it on my account – 2)

I have incorporated Byzantine art and the traditional Sunday school image of Mary for non-commercial purposes of refashioning a new art work. Name of artists unknown.

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GIF Experiments: 19 (Put it on my account)

I cut through the Catholic school playground on my bicycle, looked in the windows at the pictures of Mary, and waited for traffic to thin before I crossed Canal Avenue. I had an account at the Frozen Dairy stand. “I’ll have a marshmallow chocolate milkshake. Put it on my account.”

from Meme-Noir, 2019

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April 29, 2021

String Theory

I introduced the poetry project to the high school class. A boy, who seemed to be the class leader, didn’t see the point of it. I told him to knock on his desk. I said, “What did you touch?” He said, “Wood.” I said, “According to physicists at the University of Moscow exploring String Theory you just touched an elementary particle existing in 11 dimensions. Physicists at the University of Moscow exploring String Theory are now aware that elementary particles communicate with each other. Great poetry has come from Russian poets aware of scientific discoveries made at the University of Moscow.” He said, “Okay, I write.”

From Meme-Noir, my 2019 book of autobiographical vignettes. I bluffed my way through a possible rebellion. I remember the students reading aloud what they wrote. It was all very real. They followed his lead and he made it work. Somewhere he must be close to 30.

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February 10, 2021

GIF Experiments: 11 (A recent image conveys the past & the distance in-between)

A couple years ago, after decades and half the continent away, Howard visited. We walked around the bay down by the lake. His wife waited on a bench. They took me to an Indian restaurant for dinner. This GIF tells one story about our youthful friendship. I’m in the hat.

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October 26, 2020

GIF Experiments: 3 (My brother’s fish & my father’s funeral)

My brother cried, ‘Popeye is dead. Popeye is dead. He was inconsolable.’ His little google-eyed black fish perished overnight and floated in the bowl. At my father’s funeral the stress of the previous day’s open-casket visitation almost pushed my siblings and myself over the edge. We sat in a row along the pew, waiting for the minister to speak, our strange hushed laughter bubbling.

I appreciate the support given to me by the Canada Council for the Arts Digital Originals program in funding this GIF project based on text (with added images) from my most recent book Meme-Noir.