Artemisia

Several years ago I happened to walk into a thrift store in Lillooet. I felt drawn to a particular old piece of furniture and I opened a particular drawer.

On believing lies, disbelieving truths, punk music diagnostics, cat wisdom and Sugarless Gum.

Two kinds of snow, two kinds of teachers, chips, giggles and two kinds of spanakopita with the aim of opening the third sphincter.

The Tomahawk was the last place I had a meal with my father and that occasion was the last time I ever heard him laugh or saw him smile.