This thought has taken over my already exhausted brain on some kind of evil repeating loop. I am pretty thick-skinned, but the sheer amount of rejections, or worst yet, the continuous silence, is depressing.

Word Day at Canada Blooms.

Check out my new photography blog. Rubbing its back upon the window panes ;.

Stories of British Home Children, written, compiled and edited by Rose McCormick Brandon. One Good Word Makes all the Difference. He Loves Me Not . The Home Children, an important piece of Canadian history.

Sunday, April 26, 2015. STEPHEN TALKS TO HIMSELF ABOUT HAIR AND OTHER POLITICAL DEVICES. NaPoWriMo says to try writing a persona. A poem in which the speaker is not me. Does this not lead to the assumption that I tend to write in my own voice? And whose voice might I otherwise be writing in? Ah well. I shall take on the voice of? Stephen Talks to Himself About Hair and Other Political Devices. I have a good head of hair.

My baby, and my books. This is the town with the house with the woman with the fire inside. She arranges her mornings with needles and flowers, becoming quieter. Everyday wishing there is more to life than this great lone pine. They do not talk to her anymore, nor do they visit her with apple pies. The future is a gray seagull, they say, the sun has gone to another.