October 17, 2012 § 2 Comments

By John Londono
Marie Jane, Luna D Santos


October 17, 2012 § Leave a comment

After much need for a revival, I now promise I will start writing here soon.
I know that isnt much, but it’ll have to do for now.

I have a pile of photographs I would like to upload and I have many confessions to share.



Montreal By Night !

April 3, 2012 § 1 Comment

Montreal by Night


April 1, 2012 § Leave a comment

underneath the headline “i wanted to be a dancer, said girl killed by gangster’s bullet” was a small grainy photo.

below, the caption read “CCTV of Kala dancing happily seconds before she was shot”.

Delectably Predictable Morning

March 28, 2012 § 1 Comment

that morning I ate
off your hairless chest

I tried sipping the juice
from your belly button

but choked on lint instead.


Ice Fishing

February 20, 2012 § Leave a comment

and would a blue be as iced
would a wind know such purple skies
to have seen the orange peer though cloudless fogs
and the ice, how pink twas as sun down

i sat in the shack, above waters,
never such a simple structure

we waited for the lines to move,
for the fishes to bite
currents racing away from ontario
to St Lawrence.

how simple the gesture.


February 14, 2012 § Leave a comment

Grandmother I have learned your language twice:
First, out of default.
Second, out of necessity.

I have never dipped my hand in the St Lawrence River,
but I picture it cold.

Out in St Lambert, they were foreign to the city
or were we?

Les Anglais, they always hear Lawrence when its Laurent or Laurence,
don’t they? They butcher it don’t they?

Here, I have used your language so,
so much so, that I have forgotten my own.

Perhaps the waters, in spring, will no longer be ice cold.
Perhaps one day, I’ll return back, one of their own.