the harbour mourns fencelessness

March 2018

how good to be swallowed up to be let in
or let out

blue expanse
spreads

the narrows
a maw
stretching ship-wide

the fence stands
to guard the ocean from the town (or is it vice versa)

lucia presses her face between cold bars and wills cargo ships

to come crashing in.

Lisbon Bureau: Week 2

BY Joan Sullivan

And of course our setting is infusing the writing and imagery, in theme and topics and focus. An unusual period of rain and thunderstorms isn’t keeping us from our explorations and conversations and engagement with our exotic locale.

NORTHERN DETACHMENT

BY Clancy Margaret

The wind was still, but the cold was biting all the same. Stepping outside made her sinuses burn and her eyes water. She brushed the snow off the seat of her snowmobile—a mid-nineties Ski-Doo, always giving her trouble. She surveyed the town as she waited for the engine to warm up. It’s squat vinyl sided homes glowed amidst the dim winter daytime. Snowmobile tracks crisscrossed on the road but not a person was in sight. She checked her handheld GPS. The coordinates lined up with somewhere northwest, about a forty-five minute ride under the blanket of dark. There were no stars today. It was always cloudy.

RESURRECTING THE GREAT AUK

BY Drew Brown

The Great Auk got a raw deal. Setting its cloned Razorbill-hybrid progeny down on Funk Island as an act of atonement is a tempting proposition. Easing our collective guilt aside, a resurrected Auk could be an economic boon. Every cove and tickle would put in an ACOA grant to host a penguin hatchery.