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East Hastings
we took the early boat to Vancouver.
father stopped telling me what to do
years ago. i remember the exact
second he gave up. he set me free
into this hard world, but before
we left he warned us not
to go down here.
right where we stand, right now.
my lover raises the glass to her
lips and kisses the water:
her eyes close and open
and worlds are conquered
and divided.
here, there is no beauty
except the thread
of life
that everyone clings to,
the thin white tail
of the devil.
in the corner my lover sits
with a woman, dying, who
never speaks and has never
been heard.
she sits and extends her
hand to touch,
fights through the space between
them.
finally, they touch
and at last we are all touching.
Push and Pull
Off the wave’s crest
the sea foam trickles
against sand
like a tear
I an the child of something
greater; a consequence of
the moon’s relentless pull.
This ocean smells
like the rotten bladder
of the earth;
I am here in its bowels.
I am this foam,
this vile excrement,
this tear.
I am a child of a much greater conflict,
beyond this sand and wave
beyond the push and pull.
Meghan Johnston is a writing and social work student
at the University of Victoria. When she is not at school, she is probably
traveling around BC looking for inspiration. She has been previously published
as a 2000 winner of the BCTELA poetry competition and she has three poems
currently featured on the league of Canadian poets RE:verse site. Meghan Johnston
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