I’ve been writing since I was a kid, and I was first published at the age of fourteen as one of the winners of This Magazine‘s Great Canadian Literary Hunt. Since then my stuff has appeared in piles of journals and anthologies as well as having won a handful of awards. My first book of poems, These Burning Streets, is published with Combustion Books.
I spent the majority of my adolescence hitch hiking and riding freight trains across the country, living in abandoned buildings, flop houses, tent cities and tree platforms at protest camps. My fiction and poetry have a lot to do with experiences of displacement, class conflict, and social alienation. I like using speculative, fantastical and horrific imagery to make sense of real-world issues and events, both current and historical.
I also write a lot of non-fiction on social and environmental justice issues, queer issues and disability politics. I’ve done broadcast journalism with OPIRG Radio (aka RADIOPIRG) at University of Guelph, and I’m currently doing editorial stuff for Fifth Estate magazine, America’s longest running anti-authoritarian publication which came out of the free press movement of the ’60′s.
Other than that, I don’t really know what else to tell you. I like sleeping in empty boxcars and listening to rain. I also like the fact that my dog’s paws always smell like corn chips.


What if I travel like a poet and see the world around
——————————————————————
What if I travel like a poet and see the world around
And perceive the markings engraved in each person’s soul
I see some rich words loaded to be fired at will
Spending time in cocooned luxury
I see some poor words wretched & used in every single phrase
Seeking attention to be begged
I see the words ‘mediocre’ with iron in fists
Holding their spaces and connecting phrases with a hair to spare
I see the neo-rich fantabulous
Used without a thought to spare of the path virtuous
What if I travel like a poet and see the world around
And perceive the markings engraved in each person’s soul
I see the third person singular mermaids enshrined at homes
Wanting to extend the tired limbs and join the world
I see the Neolithic kerb crawlers seeking backdoor entry
Mesmerizing the world with their Midas touch
I see the corrupted studs and the brazen without shame
Loading their guns for the paparazzi to share
And lastly…
I see the words that mean compassion, love and brotherhood
Which stand nowhere among the crowd
But are the first ones to share their seats
Giving sustenance and sharing last drop energy…required
To smoothen chipped markings engraved in each person’s soul
What if I travel like a poet and see the world around
And perceive the markings engraved in each person’s soul
Pls let me know regarding this….
Wow, this is beautiful. Have we met before?
No Kelly. I just had a chance to see your blog page and seeing your extensive experience in the writing field, I wanted your views on the lines written above.
I hope I was not on an offensive to ask you about your views straightaway.
not offensive at all! I hope you send your poetry out into the world
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