Subdivision

Tom Brown is currently conducting experiments in quantum non-locality by living in two cities at once. He can frequently be found on BC Ferries travelling between his house in Nanaimo and his apartment in Vancouver where he works at the university; there have also been reliable reports of sightings of the elusive writer on the #257 Horseshoe Bay Express. Because his life was not frenetic enough, at the age of 50 he enrolled in a program of doctoral studies hoping thereby to fill his idle moments — a project that now seems likely to occupy him for the rest of his natural life. These studies have brought to his attention certain scientific findings that have made him quite concerned about the status of the Schrödinger family cat. He does claim to be more of a dog man at heart, but in view of his long and frequent absences from home his beagle increasingly finds his protestations unconvincing. Tom's publishing credits consist of a single chapbook Cry Poetry published by Leaf Press. His two book-length manuscripts will be available in print just as soon as the publishing industry comes to its senses. It shouldn't be long now.

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about us ::: guidelines ::: contact ::: order ::: chapbooks ::: Monday's Poem ::: Monday's Archive
Monday's Poem
Author photo by Kath Curran Link: Cry Poetry		© 2007 Thomas Brown Subdivision Southeaster sank the skiff twelve feet of silver metal on its side left hanging in the water by a line just waiting for a fisherman a yellow air-raft skittered down our little lake and into memory such a blow the ducks tucked heads low rode the waves while water spouts danced all along the surface until tension broke the sun came over easy steamed the sidewalks tricked us into going out to search for wayward bits— a yellow tube of nothing jammed beneath a jetty far from where it first took flight who knew the wind could turn so fast and slam us from the northwest drive us home with winter pellets pinging off our ears the ducks have seen all this before they ride the waves in close and hold their place unruffled while the tempest tears a float free from its anchor slams it hard against the shore — there won't be much to save by morning now's the time for dog and man to settle near the fire contemplate the folly of our brief existence wonder whether yellow rafts can ever find their way back home
Tom Brown is currently conducting experiments in quantum non-locality by living in two cities at once. He can frequently be found on BC Ferries travelling between his house in Nanaimo and his apartment in Vancouver where he works at the university; there have also been reliable reports of sightings of the elusive writer on the #257 Horseshoe Bay Express. Because his life was not frenetic enough, at the age of 50 he enrolled in a program of doctoral studies hoping thereby to fill his idle moments — a project that now seems likely to occupy him for the rest of his natural life. These studies have brought to his attention certain scientific findings that have made him quite concerned about the status of the Schrödinger family cat. He does claim to be more of a dog man at heart, but in view of his long and frequent absences from home his beagle increasingly finds his protestations unconvincing. Tom's publishing credits consist of a single chapbook Cry Poetry published by Leaf Press. His two book-length manuscripts will be available in print just as soon as the publishing industry comes to its senses. It shouldn't be long now. about us ::: guidelines ::: contact ::: order ::: chapbooks ::: Monday's Poem ::: Monday's Archive