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Spring 2013

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  • Edition14.2

  • PoetryMarie ~SamanthaWhite

    Revolution ~JenniferGalambos

    HealingHymn ~MaliaRogers

    BeneathAMirroredMask ~AsiaForbes

    TheStareofInanimateObjects ~SadieMoland

    FourWalls ~JillianSavoy

    ProseHome ~MeaghanSmith

    TheDrunk ~JamisonHall

    Janitor'sLesson ~CeileighMangalam

    Regeneration ~AlexandraFournier

    Visual art and other mediaLittleSister ~MaliaRogersfeaturingFernando

    Guerreiro

    Waiting ~RileyMacKinnon

    Covered ~RileyMacKinnon

    Visitor ~TheodoreSaunders,McCullochSimpson,andBrandonJohnstonwithspecialthankstoBillyOgilvieandBraedenWay

  • MarieWesattogetherSpeakingperfectEnglishButoccasionallystoppingToincludeamanwhocouldnotAwaitingthenextbustogetherAndwhenweheardtheengineIpanickedbecauseIthoughtitmightbeyourturnButitwasnt,notyetAndwhatwasleftofourlittlefamilymarchedouttothatbusLikesoldiersreadyforbattleAndweallhadtosaytheonewordwewishedwedidntAndthebusstartedtocreepawayIneverheardpainmakeasoundtilthenAndrunningwasnouseforanyoneAndthenwhatwasleftofourfamilyWhichwasntmuchWentbacktoourhomeWhichwasnolongerahomeAndIsatthereinsilenceBecauseIknewthatyouwerenextAndwhenitwastimeIcarriedyourpillowAndIcouldntevenlookatyouBecauseifIlookedatyouIthoughtaboutwhatitwouldbelikeWhenIcouldntlookatyouanymoreAndIhelditinallthewaytothebusWhereIlookedintoyoureyesAnduglysobsescapedmythroatEventhoughItriedsohardtostopthemAndyoutriedtohugthemawayButtheyjustkeptcomingAndIcouldntbreatheAndourlittlesisterwascryingtooAndyougotonthatbusAndIlookedupatyouAndyoumadeafunnyfaceTryingtomakemesmileAndahystericalchuckleescapedmylipsAlongwithtwiceasmanytearsasbeforeBecauseyoualwayshadawaytodothatAndthenthebusstartedupAndittookyouaway

  • AndIcouldntbreatheworsethaneverAndIwantyoutoknowThatIstillcantbreatheNotonebit

    ~SamanthaWhite

  • RevolutionEachmomentcouldhavebeen

    anending.

    Adisaster.Allwewantedwasarevolution.

    Becausewereallstandingintherainwaitingforthelighteningtostrikethebelltower,sothatwecanengravethestoneswithournamessothatallwillrememberandknowwhothetragedybelongedto.

    wevesaidtoomuchintoomanywords,revealedoursecrets.

    Theyvepriedopenthesecabinetdoors,thiscageofbonesandspearpointstounraveltheheartbeathiddenwithin

    Vulnerable,ourhopesexposed,thelayerspeeledbackandtattooedintoourveinslikemarksofselfdestruction,wewillstandinoursoakedskins,waitingforthemarchtobegin,ourmalleablebonesclutchingourflagstaffsandbanners,thefrayededgesrippledbywindandmoonlight

    eachbreathheldinanticipation,crystallizedandpalpableinthemomentbeforethestormbreaks

    ~JenniferGalambos

  • Healing HymnRemember,remember;ThepainthatseemstolastforeverWillonlyexistwhileyou'rewillingtosufferWillplaguebutafractionofyourexistenceAninstantUnlessyouchoosetoreminisceinit.

    Restart,restart;FrombrokenarmtobrokenheartAndallbutshatteredsenseofselfLookforwardYou'vealighterloadtocarryForeverythingistemporary.

    ~MaliaRogers

  • Beneath A Mirrored MaskBeneathamirroredmaskIhide,littlemorethanafigmentofyourillustriousimagination.

    Youstrovetochangeme,andbelievedyouhad,deceivedbymymirroredface,whichshowedbutyours.WhatelseamItobebuttheloverofyou,theNarcissist.Ourlipsmeetingundertheillusionofyourface,whatloveisthis?

    ~AsiaForbes

  • The Stare of Inanimate ObjectsMycursewasnotsurefooted.ItrathertookmyhandinreachingforsomethingelseandguidedmeintothatroomasifIwereaninfantledbyanuncertainsibling.

    ButwhenIsawhimsleepingthere,Iknewwhatpushedme,recognizedthelanguagemymusclesspoke,andactedinanaggressionthatcanonlybedescribedbythesuddenexpansionofacatspupilsortheflaringofaneaglesplumage.Itseemedashametoperforminfrontofsomanywitnesses.Themahoganychair,carvedbyasouthernartisan,bornintoawealthyfamily,nowspritzedbymyownswiftwhittling.Theafghan,knitwiththegreatestintentionshopesofbringingwarmthtoanewbornonanelderlywomanslaponlynowtodrowninasaturatingpuddleofrose.Thelamp,themirror,eachphotographandknickknackallwatching,judgingsilently,waiting,holdingontobreathsothatmineistheonlyoneheard.Hishasbeenlonggonenow.Andthereliesmyguilt,notforhim,butfortheroomthatIforcedmyselfintoandviolated.ThisroomwhoseroleandpurposeIsodrastically,easilychangedinaninstantnowshivereditswallsundermyclothandchemicalsasIstrippeditsskinofmycrime.Butthisroomwouldnotforget.Ibargain,suggestanewpaintjobormayberecarpetingButIseethatithasbeentraumatizedAndthereisnosavingit.

    ~SadieMoland

  • Four WallsThewallswerebreathing;Inhalingtheworldandspittingitbackoutatme.Isankwithinitsribcage.Envelopedinwarmbones,LyinginthewakeofdistantpulsationsOfabeatingheartkeepingtime.ItsoscillatingvibrationsMakingconversationwithmyeardrums.Eyesdancingtothetune,TracingamazetonirvanaWhilenearlylosingmyfootingOnthestairsofitsspine.Climbingup,up,upIntoalabyrinthofknowledge.IwavedtoasmilingfaceAmongstavisionofmemories.Adoortotherightread,donotenter.Totheleft,approachwithcaution.SoIcontinuedforward,EnclosingmyselfintheboxcarOfanawaitingrollercoasterride.Plungingoveracliff,IgaspedSwallowingasweettasteOfmynewdestination.Acrystallakeborderedwithawhitepicketfence.Softmoonlightfadingwitheachpassingmoment,Iturnedtoleapoffitsdivingboardintounknown.Thegatekeepernoddedandsaid,Alwayskeepyourheadup,Unlessyoureswimminginthesea.TowhichIresponded,Everythingisdivine.

    ~JillianSavoy

  • HomeThesuddenrappingatthebathroomdoorshakesmefrommystupor.Miss?Miss?Imgoingtohavetoaskyoutoreturntoyourseatnow!Theflightattendantinstructsmethroughthedoor.Istarttobreatheslowly.Youcandothis.Itsfine!

    Imcomingout!Irespond.Igrabmybelongingsallscatteredaroundthetinyairplanebathroomandshovethemintomycanvasbag.Icouldvejustwornmyniceoutfitforthewholeplaneride,butplaneclothesalwaysfeelgrosstomeafterafewhours.Ipushopenthedoorandshiftawkwardlyoutofthebathroomastheflightattendantblocksmypath.Sheshimmiesaroundmeandmylargecollectionofthings.Iplacemybagdirectlyinfrontofmeandslowlymakemywayuptheaisle.Isitdownandquicklydoupmyseatbeltasweareabouttoland.Themaninthemiddleseatlooksatmeincredulouslyinmyfloraldressthatfitsmeasifitwerecustommade.WhenIleftIlookedlikeahomelesspersonwhoyoudfindsleepingonthetrain,andcamebacklookinglikeahighclassprostitute.ItsthefirsttimeinmonthsthatIvedonemyhairandmakeupandhisreactiontellsmethatithashadthedesiredeffect.Myonlyruleinlifehasalwaysbeendressthewayyouwishyoufelt,andinthisoutfityoudneverknowInervousvomitedthreetimesinthebathroomwhilegettingready.

    TheplanejostlesaboutduringitslandingandIquicklythinkIcouldstillcrashandnothavetodothis.ButitlandssafelyandIcanfeelthevomitriseagain.Imscaredtolookatmyphone.IgripitsotightlyinmyhandsImafraidthescreenwillbreak.Westarttotaxitherunwayandtheflightattendanttellsuswecanturnourelectronicsbackonandmyfingerisalreadydesperatelysmashingthepowerbutton.Theappleflashesandmocksmetakingforevertofindservice.Myphonestartsbuzzingincessantlyasmyinboxfloodswithtextmessagesaskingtomakeplans.IsiftthroughthemlookingfortheoneIwant.Idontseeit.Iputmyphonebackdownandstarttopullthecanvasbagoutfromundertheseataheadofme.OncewevestoppedIracetothefrontsoImnotcaughtdressedtotheninescryingamongstabunchofstrangers.AsIwaitforthedoorstodepressurizeIfeelmyphonebuzzinmyhand.Itshim.AllitsaysisWelcomeHome.Ismileandwalkuptheramplikeitsmyrunway.Myheelsclomptowardsthefuture.Ithinkhesright.Imfinallyreadyforahome.

    ~MeaghanSmith

  • The Drunkthesmellofstaleginandmorningbacteriagreetedmelikethedistantcallofanoldlover.Iopenedmywearyeyesandstaredatthewhiteceilingaboveasitrotatedslowly.Iblinked,shookmyhead,andfinallymademywaytothebathroomsoIcouldridmyselfofthisfond,spitefulnostalgiatrip.Icleanedmyself;teeth,hair,cock,andskin,washinglastnightssweatdownthedrain.ThenIcarelesslywrappedanunlaunderedtowelaroundmyselfandmademywaytothekitchen.

    Orangejuice.Vodka,2oz.AscriptedsortofgreetingtoawifewhosepassionsIhadstolensomeyearsbefore.SheclaimedIhadmadeanassofmyselfthenightbefore.Ihadnorecollectionofthis.IrebuttedbyclaimingthatitwasntthatIwasanass,butthatIamanass.Shesmiled.SodidI.AndthenIheldheraroundthewaistandkissedher.ShesmelledsomethinglikethebacongreasethatcloudedtheroomanddayoldKraftDinner.Shesmelledwonderful,andwepartedways.

    Imademyselfabaconsandwich,andateitwiththenewsonforbackground.Therewassomethingonaboutthebuildingfeelingofterroroveranotherstringofstabbingsinthecityorsomethinglikethat.Thenewspresenteditselfwithsuchsensationastocommandlittleempathyfromme.Ihatedit,andsoIturneditoff,decidingtolookoutofthewindowinstead.Thestreetwascompletelyempty,andstillitwasmoreintellectuallyfulfillingthanthatblackboxofdespair.

    Backinthekitchen,washingplates,Idecidedthatthiswasgoingtobethebigday.AnothervodkainandIthoughtImightgooutforawalk.MaybetodayIwouldfindtheinspirationIwaslookingfor.Idressedmyselfinclothingfromthenightbefore,slippedahipflaskinmyjacketpocket,andsetofflookingforthenextfleetingeuphoriaofidea.Thestreetwasstillempty.Iwalkedtothelocalbrook.Imademyselfapeacefulifconceitedspotunderawillowtree,andthefaroffsoundofyoungloversfuckingmademeallnostalgicagain.Istaredatthewaterflowingby,sippingintermittentlyfromtheflask.Foramoment,IthoughtImighthavedetectedtheghostofadecentthoughtbeforeIrealizedthatitwasjustsomebullfrogcroakingitsimpotentragefromacrossthestream.Isatthereforalongtime.Onthewaybackhome,Itookthefinaldrinkfromtheflask.Somethinghitme.Isaiditaloud.Illgetcleantomorrow.ThenthatoldPerryComosongstartedplayingbackinmyheadandIstartedtosingalongwiththebastard.ThenIwashome.ThenIwasasleep.Then

    ~JamisonHall

  • Janitor's LessonYoulearnquickwhatproductsworkbestforcleaningoffspitandfilthfromthedisplays.Fingermarksonglass:usenewspaperandWindex,they'llcomerightoff,nostreaks.Boogersattenyearoldheightscrustedtobanisters:OrangeCleaner,maybe409...thatstuffisMyLordMagic!Doyouknowhowmanypeopleperday,onaverage,hawkloogiesintothosePoolsofReflection?No?Alot.THAT'Stheaverage.Perday.I'dsaynowIcan'tbeeverywhereatonce,don'tquoteme1outof5.People,thatis.Spitting.Unbelievable.Kidswhodanglethreadsgobsofphlegmasfarastheycangobeforethethreadsnapsandhitstheminthefaceandthegobsfloatingawaytojointheothers.Butthenthat'skids.Kidsdon'tgetitwhenthey'rerubbingsnotonthe'Nammemorial,wipingstickyhandsonLincoln'smarbleshoes,flickingscabsoverthewaterfallsatthe9/11sinkholes.'Bout45percentofpeopleneverputtheirhandsundertherailingskeepingthembackfromanygreatmonument.True.Butthosewhodousuallyleavealittlesomethingbehind.YouwalkyourselfrightuptotherailsofanygreatparagonofhistoryandfeeldownandunderabitandBAM,you'llhitaspearmintandoriginalbubblegumflavourbarrier.Samewithchairsandbenches.Sometimes,it'sbecausepeoplewanttoleavesomethingofthemselvesbehind,stuckfastandconnectedtotheevent,thetragedy,theglory.Sometimes.

    Othertimesit'sforadifferentpurposeentirely.Graffiti'snottheworst.PeoplewhothinktheycantoppletheWashingtonMonumentortheWhiteHousewithafewshortslashesofredspraypaint.FucktheMan.GuyFawkessilhouettes.AnarchyIsTheOnlyWay!!!Theycomeoffrealeasywithagoodstraightsolventandelbowgrease.It'stheotherstuffthatactuallytopplesempires.There'simpotentkindsofdefacement,likethatkidswhowon'trememberinacoupleyearswhytheyweresoangryattheGovernment.Andthenthere'sapathy.Desensitization.Boredom.Theworst.Theveryworst.Thekindthatequalsdriedupsnotandbuildupsofchewedgumandpeoplepickingtheirnosesandwipingthemoncommemorativeplaquesandleavingsalamimustardsandwichesontopofdisplaycases.EverlivedinaworldsobigandgreatandbeautifulandimportantthatpeoplewholiveinitwithyougetboredwiththeBignessandtheBeautyandtheImportance?Yeah.Yeahyouhave.IfWEweren'there,itwouldallgotowaste.Thehugesocialupheavals,theadvances,therevolutions.Wekeepitclean.Wekeepitvisible.Wekeepitrespectable.Wekeepitnecessary.Wechiseloffthegumandwipedownthegreaseandsweepawaythebreadcrumbs.ButIcanfeelit;weallcan.Peoplearegettingtootiredtoholdupthepastandthepresentatthesametime.Nooneevernoticesthejanitor.

    ~CeileighMangalam

  • RegenerationThefirsttimehedies,hislastthoughtisofAmeliaMiddleton.

    AmeliaMiddletonisthegirlwhoalwayslivedinthequainthousenexttohis.Hislastthoughtisofherhairshiningburntumberinthesettingsun,thelongstrandswhippingintohersmilingfaceasshelaughswithabandon.Itisatinysnapshotintimearatherarbitraryoneforhismindtochooseashislastthoughthowever,asfaraslastthoughtsgo,thisoneseemsaratherappropriateandpoeticone.HehasbeeninlovewithAmeliaforaslongashecanrememberand,justbeforeheleft,sheagreedtobehiswife.

    (Hewouldhavemarriedheronthespothadheknownthewarwouldtearhimawayfromherforfourlongyears,butthatisnotanicelastthoughttohave,sohepushesitaway.)

    Asthefleetingimageofherhairandherlaughfadefromhismind,heexhalesforthelasttime,hislungssinkingwiththeirfinalbreath.

    Hecloseshiseyesandallissilent.

    Foratotalofsixtyseconds,hisentirebodyisstillnotamuscletwitches,notathoughtrunsthroughhishead,notabreathpassesthroughhislips,andeveryorganinhisbodyhasstoppedcold.

    However,afterthosesixtysecondsthatone,smallminutepasses,theunmistakablebumbumofaheartbeatrumblesanewinhischest.

    Bumbum.Bumbum.Bumbum.Hisrenewedheartbeatripplesthroughhimandstirshiscoolingblood,whichbeginstosimmerandslowlystarttomoveagaininhisveins.Itcreepsandcrawlslethargicallyuntilfullyawakeandbeginstoflowfreelytohismusclesandthroughhislimbs.Hisshatteredribsclickbackintoplacesnappingandlocking,aswouldapuzzleandnewskinskatesoverthebulletwoundinhisshoulderinatranslucentfilmthatslowlybecomesopaque.Thecutsscatteredalloverhisbodycloseupaswouldthepetalsofaflowercomewintertimeandthepurplebruisesdottinghischestandkneesslowlybleachtothepeachofhisskin.Feelingreturnstohistoes,scurriesuphislegs,skimsuphisstomach,burnsinhishands,andclimbsuphisspineuntilhisbrainsparksbacktolife.Flashesofmemories,colours,voices,faces,sounds,andwordsexplodeinsidehishead,hismindwhirringagain.

    Heinhalesasharp,suddenlungfulofairand,withthat,hiseyesflyopen.

    Thatisthefirsttimehecomesbacktolife.

    ~AlexandraFournier

  • Waiting

    ~RileyMacKinnon

  • Covered

    ~RileyMacKinnon

    The following works were part of Estuary's online 14.2 edition, and can be viewed by visiting Estuary's media archive at www.acadiau.ca/estuary.

    Little Sister by Malia Rogers (music)

    Visitor by Theodore Saunders, McCulloch Simpson, and Brandon Johnston (film)