Rose and Aoife have eye appointments

1.


A confirmation of vision: four eyes

between them. Each test, projected. The speech


and image


of digital type. Deflated sounds,

as visible as air.



2.


On McLeod Street, named for a son

who lived a life of service. I lived here briefly,


twice across two decades. The children

are indifferent. Can we 


go get McDonald’s?



3.


A set of leafy branches,

backdrop: office towers


cluster. To bear, Rose whistles


a simple tune.



4.


A former sign on Kilborn, stating

house number aside business name, “1285


Optometrists.” The misread


will never not be funny.






5.


Their eyes are fine. Come back, he says,


in two years , thereabouts.


rob mclennan

Born in Ottawa, Canada’s glorious capital city, rob mclennan currently lives in Ottawa, where he is home full-time with the two wee girls he shares with Christine McNair. The author of more than thirty trade books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction, his most recent titles include the poetry collection the book of smaller (University of Calgary Press, 2022), and a suite of pandemic essays, essays in the face of uncertainties (Mansfield Press, 2022). An editor and publisher, he runs above/ground press, periodicities: a journal of poetry and poetics (periodicityjournal.blogspot.com) and Touch the Donkey (touchthedonkey.blogspot.com). He is editor of my (small press) writing day, and an editor/managing editor of many gendered mothers. In spring 2020, he won ‘best pandemic beard’ from Coach House Books via Twitter, of which he is extremely proud (and mentions constantly). He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the University of Alberta, and regularly posts reviews, essays, interviews and other notices at robmclennan.blogspot.com

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