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SubTerrain » 14th Annual Lush Triumphant Literary Awards

http://subterrain.ca/about/103/lush-2013-awards-open+for+entries

160;  about. 14th Annual Lush Triumphant Literary Awards. Our Annual Lush Triumphant Literary Awards competition is now CLOSED. Watch this space for EARLY BIRD REGISTRATION! In next year's competition. We will begin accepting submissions in December or January. See Below for Contest Details! DEADLINE for entries: May 15th. The Competition awards cash prizes and publication:. 3,000 in cash prizes. The skinny . . . MAXIMUM 3,000 WORDS (no specific theme, we simply want to be amazed! All entries MUST be pre...

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SubTerrain » hoarse, whispering

http://subterrain.ca/poetry/115/hoarse-whispering

160;  poetry. Kickin it out back the grocers on milk crates. Laughing and passing sherry with the natives. Near the burial garden did you steal their stone. By taking stock of these illicit images to guide. A strange traveler through the cedar chip tombs. Abalone bowers and the pox of dead gems. What’s writ white is your repeated phantasm. Get outa here you no good nah fat chance eh. Butt-end of mop in my gut proof of strength. I’m not one of the grubs i’m my own butterfly.

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SubTerrain » Nine Murderers Look at a Lake

http://subterrain.ca/fiction/134/nine-murderers-look-at-a-lake

160;  fiction. Nine Murderers Look at a Lake. The water was still and the moon new and the rats of paradise slept at his feet. Fish nudged their way along the bank. Small grey fish. Perch? Do they know each other, communicate? Or maybe they felt the vibration?

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SubTerrain » New Deadly Sins

http://subterrain.ca/poetry/135/new-deadly-sins

160;  poetry. A child of God from Tennessee told me I’m aging well. It all comes back to big creature voice,. To the faith-shadow flinch beneath still water and quick water. It’s what we know from the bitter,. Like the scrawl at the Devon wood mill’s loading dock:. You Please come home. Bob. Love letter on the loading dock and God in the aging. It’s why there are new sins now,. Because too many are making do without god and these small miracles. In magic marker come home, catch the bird, cure the stove.

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SubTerrain » Normal

http://subterrain.ca/poetry/136/normal

160;  poetry. For my daughters Micah-Sophia and Rory Sarah. I’m fighting normal. I’m choreographing. This other dance, where you spin across. The floor and out the door while the other. Kids are still jumping on the spot, popping up. To learn ballet. From an outsider’s eye,. You might call ours the dancing raccoon disco,. Or perhaps we are the hip hop squirrel brigade. The slippery salmon lovers of clouds? The bears who hold up signs saying, Will work. For honey and funk! We are spinning across the floor.

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SubTerrain » their tossing ships

http://subterrain.ca/poetry/116/their-tossing-ships

160;  poetry. On this more traditional view, the self was to be. Regarded as an enormous whisky vat, in which. Until they were mellow and mature. Terry Eagleton, How to Read a Poem. The miraculous alcoholics capture and tap the enormous whisky vat. Of the self, their dilated blood vessels, their staggering gait. Evading the brightwork, leaping athwartships,. Their revelry, loutish yet stalwart, plaits. Tradition with dangerous irrationality,. That reckless sedan of a catamaran. Sunk in stouts and moats,.

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SubTerrain » Halfway to Happiness

http://subterrain.ca/non-fiction/124/halfway-to-happiness

160;  non-fiction. We take our chances. Laughed at by time. Of the ocean in the literary sense a broad empty swell, submerged with myths of forgetting and forgiveness. When he took to the sea, perhaps he was remembering his youth and ability as a swimmer before his life and its myriad responsibilities began to exact its heavy toll on his too sensitive disposition.

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SubTerrain » Chance

http://subterrain.ca/fiction/129/chance

160;  fiction. One day they were standing outside the annoying theatre where they worked, smoking a horrible menthol cigarette they’d bummed off a horrible patron, when a pale guy with black spiked hair, black acid wash jeans and a black Metallica T-shirt came up to them and said in an almost undetectable Scottish accent, You look cool. Want tae run away with the circus? They pushed their glasses up onto their not-so-pale Canadian nose, and exhaled.

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SubTerrain » Quiet Pipelines

http://subterrain.ca/non-fiction/109/quiet-pipelines

160;  non-fiction. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be saying to you guys. What do you want to know? I just found out what this was a few minutes ago. Pretty sad, isn’t it? It takes a new kind of lawmaker to undo what needs to be undone these days. I’m older, but still of the new school of law that understands change as non-sequitur. My daughters refuse to eat some nights because they find me disgusting. I make them want to small-puke in their mouths, they tell me. They are gastronomically inclined.

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SubTerrain » Fifteen Miles South of the Arctic Circle

http://subterrain.ca/fiction/133/fifteen-miles-south-of-the-arctic-circle

160;  fiction. Fifteen Miles South of the Arctic Circle. The plow bites all the way to last year’s grass and soil. It throws yellow clods of ice and frozen mud like a cresting wave on some tropical beach. The wave sweeps across my wife. Small gravel-size pieces land around me where I stand down the slope. The train stops. I labour back up the slope. The crew is running toward the spot where she fell.