Aaron Tucker

why is history like a fruitcake?
Aaron Tucker

I refantasize about otherme
as you shower separately +
I tip + slosh through luggage:

I am young + I study hard in university
huddled over fat red pencil + small desk
ill-fitting pants + homemade haircut

this long lab coat vision/version
gasps at test tube smokepuff delights
alchemizes human liver cells from orange peels
a miniature deer from leaf + root scraps
$translates= ‘from: transportation’;

then (grad school, I astoundingly convert
TVs into refrigerators + lawnmowers into airplanes
grow my hair long, learn piano, small keyed resistance
each a small echo repeat)

then (I get a well paying job with health benefits
invest in a RRSP, handshake with bank manager
sesame seed a small grain in his palm grinds mine)

then (I create a time machine
ivory + rock crystal some radioactive center
whirls hypnotic against a re-upholstered lawn chair
a faint mercury smell, nickelbones
I set my dial for a newsstand in 1961
the year both my mother + father were born

grip a mint copy of Amazing Fantasy 15
corners astoundingly sharp + vivid
a man lunges from a costume’s arms)
I imagine the only truly perfect copy


Aaron Tucker’s poetic works and reviews have been published across Canada. His chapbook, apartments, was shortlisted for the 2010 bpNichol Chapbook award. In addition, his collection of essays Interfacing with the Internet in Popular Cinema was published by Palgrave-Macmillan in July, 2014. Currently, he is a professor in the English department at Ryerson University where he is currently teaching essay writing and digital literacy to first year students. He is working on learning chess in between watching his beloved Raptors lose games. More at aarontucker.ca