LEMON HOUND

More Bite Than Bark Since 2005
Author Archive
Diego Báez on Paul Vermeersch

Diego Báez on Paul Vermeersch

Paul Vermeersch, Don’t Let It End Like This Tell Them I Said Something, ECW 2014 Like Y2K survivalists and street corner preachers, Paul Vermeersch seems to insist the apocalypse has been upon us for a while, now. However, unlike frightful doomsdayers, Vermeersch revels in this proclamation and, contrary to popular imagination, does not include cerebrophagic...
Jeramy Dodds: The Poetic Edda

Jeramy Dodds: The Poetic Edda

  Excerpt from Jeramy Dodds’ The Poetic Edda, Coach House 2014, by permission. Jeramy Dodds’s first collection of poems, Crabwise to the Hounds, won the Trillium Book Award for Poetry and was shortlisted for the Griffin Poetry Prize. His poems have won the CBC Literary Prize and the Bronwen Wallace Memorial Award. He holds an...

ON THE CAREER: Mentoring by Example

On the matter of career — Sina Queyras this post originally appeared on the Poetry Foundation website, March 16, 2010 at 12:15pm Poetry as career is always a contentious subject. My rather lighthearted attempts to open up the discussion this week make it seem as though I have a lighthearted approach, which couldn’t be farther...

ON MENTORSHIP: Natalee Caple

Long Life Mentorship Natalee Caple is the author of seven books of fiction and poetry and a professor of English and Creative Writing at Brock University in St. Catharines. Her latest novel, In Calamity’s Wake, was published by HarperCollins in Canada and Bloomsbury in the US. This article originally appeared in the National Post. Jonathan...

ON MENTORSHIP: John Cage

This comes from derek beaulieu. He notes “i think it’s worth noting that cage didn’t write this piece himself, he adopted it from Sister Corita Kent.”
Kerry-Lee Powell: Four Poems

Kerry-Lee Powell: Four Poems

TO MY CREDITORS A dozen red razors. Eleven peals of manic laughter, ten impending crises. Nine duels at dawn followed by eight candlelight vigils. Seven sighs, six lies, five excellent excuses. Four of my firstborns –three of them bastards– two brinks of despair, one portent of disaster. And O, the moon you asked for.  ...
Christian Bök: from "Colony Collapse Disorder"

Christian Bök: from “Colony Collapse Disorder”

Christian Bök is the author of Crystallography (Coach House Press, 1994), a pataphysical encyclopedia nominated for the Gerald Lampert Memorial Award, and of Eunoia (Coach House Books, 2001), a bestselling work of experimental literature, which has gone on to win the Griffin Prize for Poetic Excellence. Bök has created artificial languages for two television shows:...
Reading: Dies: A Sentence

Reading: Dies: A Sentence

A reading of Vanessa Place’s Dies: A Sentence, certainly one of the great literary events of the past decade.
bp Nichol: balloons and abstract rubes

bp Nichol: balloons and abstract rubes

Happy 70th bp. What an amazing spirit walked among us. Click on link below. Click on images to advance slideshow. Enjoy.
Raziel Reid: from When Everything Feels Like the Movies

Raziel Reid: from When Everything Feels Like the Movies

1. Preproduction I would’ve gone down for a pair of Louboutins (I think they call that “head over heels”), but the closest I ever got was kissing the feet of celebrities in tabloid magazines. My mother’s closet was basically a sex shop. It was full of costumes and shoes, which she wore to work. That’s...
Stephen Collis: Report from the Climate March

Stephen Collis: Report from the Climate March

Poetry and the People’s Climate March: A Brief Report Stephen Collis How do we account for the lived quality of life itself, writ large—the vast web of species that are collectively, relationally, alive at any given moment we care to tune into our planetary presence? How do we think this biospheric being alive, and how...

Ryan Fitzpatrick: Three Poems

I JUST WANT TO ESCAPE When the morning starts with a crisis, I turn to my social network. I’m caught in a series of Kodak moments and it makes me feel so lucky. I tear up when colour swells into my recombinating diary. My lungs hurt during the moment of silence. The odds favour me...
Daphne Marlatt: On Theory, A Sunday

Daphne Marlatt: On Theory, A Sunday

Reading Theory, A Sunday, the recently released Belladonna English edition, of that 1988 Quebecoise feminist classic, La Theorie, un dimanche, was for me a curiously double experience.  Energizing, heartening, both pertinent and at the same time nostalgia-inducing for what seems a simpler time, now that we teeter on the brink of looming global climate crisis...
Danielle Bobker: Belle, A New View of 18th Century Racism

Danielle Bobker: Belle, A New View of 18th Century Racism

Belle: A New View of Eighteenth-Century Racism by Danielle Bobker  Belle (2013), directed by Amma Asante and written by Misan Sagay, tells stories that are by turns deeply familiar and completely fresh. You need only to have read a Jane Austen (1775-1817) novel or two, or seen any of the movie adaptations, to guess the...
Maureen N. McLane: Two Poems

Maureen N. McLane: Two Poems

WHAT’S THE MATTER Why the low mood, the picking at food? Maybe it’s the weather. Maybe it’s hormones. Explanation’s cheap but sometimes hits the mark. I am the target of mysterious arrows I myself let sling. O that’s your fantasy of omnipotence. You make everything your thing. All day I stayed in bed. It seemed...

Felix Bernstein: Breakfast at Tiffany’s; Dinner at Goldsmith’s

Breakfast at Tiffany’s; Dinner at Goldsmith’s: On Daniel’s Canon and Kenneth’s Memes by Felix Bernstein In his article Cheap Signaling, professor Daniel Tiffany argues that there is something new amongst a freshly grouped constellation of poets. That something new (to be brief: culture jamming) is not far from what I have written about in my...
Rebecca Hazelton: Three Poems

Rebecca Hazelton: Three Poems

COVER Halfway through the mission, the operative called his handler and told her the children in the park he could see from the clerestory were flying kites with tails decorated in ribbon and foil. They are putting a real emphasis on aesthetics, he told her. Some of us are born with priorities, and the rest...
Jackson Mac Low: 1978

Jackson Mac Low: 1978

Jackson Mac Low on Public Access Poetry, Jan. 26, 1978. See Penn Sound for more.
Stevie Howell: Two Poems

Stevie Howell: Two Poems

PIQUE Another committee meeting. Of course no one will shit or get off the pot. 7 scientists, 11 politicians, 3 generals, an anthropologist, and a sculptor. No one knows who invited the last. We’re debating a symbol that ought to last 100,000 years. Or whether a symbol ought not to exist at all. We scarfed...
Paul Vermeersch: Rubble

Paul Vermeersch: Rubble

RUBBLE Paul Vermeersch 2 The shark-face is screaming in the doorway opening its fangs. SCREAMING thathat it cannot die, that it has come back, this time on wings, and will spare no earthly thing. It is moving above me, it is burning my heart out. The ancient owls’ nest must have burned. A red fox...
Ben Rawluk: Superheart

Ben Rawluk: Superheart

SUPERHEART Ben Rawluk This is about saving the world.  Steel Fury leans forward in the passenger seat of the Foxcar, stainless steel helmet knocking against the windshield, Foxboy grinding his teeth behind the wheel, suspension so terrible you really feel it when the Foxcar hits a crack in the pavement, or a pile of trash,...

Cat Diary

CAT DIARY The cat keeps staring at the corner. He’s been there forever, listening. Okay, he gets up to eat and shit but he always goes back to that corner in the bedroom. He just stares. My girlfriend, Staci, there’s a word she likes: Uncanny. I can’t touch him or talk to him. Freaks him...

Sonnet L’Abbe: Writing through Sonnet 22

From Sonnet’s Shakespeare: 154 Ecolonizations XXII So many girls are missing. Shamefully, no type rescues dead demoiselles. Media memorials nod: isolated occurrences, gasp-worthy. Mouthfuls of sand, throats squaw-red, our foundation sedates – butch! burn, twat! witch! – sentences. Winters here; frontiersmen; soft furs: brown siblings, the threshold threatening looks and ideals. This ignominy daylights homeys’...
Ben Tripp: French

Ben Tripp: French

FRENCH She couldn’t leave the room She wasn’t able to leave the room She used to not be able to leave the room The imperfect is the film “I was swimming.” The composed past is the photograph “I swam.” I don’t know exactly when I’m thinking I know exactly where I’m thinking To prefer the...

Joshua Mehigan: One Poem

Heard at the Men’s Mission How many sons-of-bitches no one loves, with long coats on in June and beards like nests— guys no one touches without latex gloves, squirming with lice, themselves a bunch of pests, their cheeks and noses pocked like grapefruit rind— fellas with permanent shits and yellowish eyes who, if they came...
Emerging Toronto Poets: Stevie & Aisha Want You!

Emerging Toronto Poets: Stevie & Aisha Want You!

Here’s the first of a few LAST CALLS as we head into our final year of publishing. Lemon Hound is open to submissions from Emerging Toronto poets starting today and continuing until August 23, 2014. Co-editors Stevie Howell & Aisha Sasha John are seeking 3-5 pages of previously unpublished poetry by Toronto poets with two books or less, for a folio of new voices....
From Al Purdy's Storm Warning 2

From Al Purdy’s Storm Warning 2

In my reading around Al Purdy of late I came across a copy of Storm Warning 2. I would love to get the poems up too, but I’ll start with this amazing gallery of poets circa 1975.
Short Take on Margaux Williamson

Short Take on Margaux Williamson

I Could See Everything The Paintings of Margaux Williamson, Coach House 2014 What I know about painting has been gleaned from looking at paintings, an art form that by now often feels like knitting. The way that Impressionism was a response to Realism. How does painting respond to the ubiquitous digital image? What I want...
Marianne Ackerman on Donna Tartt: The Goldfinch

Marianne Ackerman on Donna Tartt: The Goldfinch

Twenty pages into The Goldfinch (Little Brown and Company, 2013) I started having chest pains, accompanied by shortness of breath. My wrist tingled. I figured it must be something I ate, or maybe early signs of a heart attack. But the most obvious source of discomfort lay close at hand, no more than twelve, maybe...
Laura Broadbent: Short Film II

Laura Broadbent: Short Film II

SHORT FILM II A woman in her early thirties is shown performing all the rhythmic, banal things any human being does unselfconsciously throughout the day such as brushing teeth, tripping in legs of underwear, peeing, splashing water over face, leaning on the counter while drinking orange juice out of the carton, staring into space combined...

David Antin: A List of the Delusions of the Insane

David Antin A List of the Delusions of the Insane: What They Are Afraid Of The list reproduced here from David Antin’s Code of Flag Behavior (Los Angeles: Black Sparrow, 1969) is an expansion of the catalog originally compiled by Thomas Smith Clouston of “actual examples of delusions of about 100 female melancholic patients” (“and...
Sina Queyras: The M Word

Sina Queyras: The M Word

WHAT WE WON’T TALK ABOUT WHEN WE TALK ABOUT MOTHERING When I first saw a Tweet announcing the impending publication of The M Word I Tweeted in response that if the book makes me laugh more than sigh, I would love it. The Tweet was half provocation, half earnest, but as I waded into the...
Kevin Walter: Five Poems

Kevin Walter: Five Poems

MILF Sonnet 5 Do not infringe upon her hot Joan of Arc fetish, mimetic fisherman—your namesake ghastly on the gentle flagstaff. A shrewd witness testifies against your fidelity, the blenders, libertine mainframes. Weatherman Ted needs his whiskers, after all. Henchmen debase pinwheels, hornets philander the redhead. This ethanol thermostat tells us the math was forewarned....

Antony Di Nardo: If it Weren’t for the Mouth of the St. Lawrence

IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE MOUTH OF THE ST. LAWRENCE I’ve got a message for you, he said, But saying it would take all the time in the world So instead I wrote it on the face of the river, A place Banksy hasn’t yet found. I’ve got a message for you, but it’s deep...
Douglas Kearney: Two Poems

Douglas Kearney: Two Poems

“I HAVE A PENIS! MAMA HAS A PENIS!” a song in me of my daughter’s wayward penis, twin to her brother’s stolid one. gone on its hero’s wanderings, audacious penis! it’s nautical, my daughter’s penis, a craft of sail, propeller, or oar, madcap ship of the frothy bath sea penis! it’s chthonic, my daughter’s penis,...
Heather O'Neill: from The Girl Who Was Saturday Night

Heather O’Neill: from The Girl Who Was Saturday Night

Girls! Girls! Girls! I was heading along Rue Sainte-Catherine to sign up for night school. There was a cat outside a strip joint going in a circle. I guessed it had learned that behaviour from a stripper. I picked it up in my arms. “What’s new, pussycat,” I said. All the buildings on that block...
David Bradford: Riding Bitch

David Bradford: Riding Bitch

RIDING BITCH I must have been 9 or 10, divorce still but a pipe dream, and just barely, then, taller than my mother, and just at 5 feet. I called shotgun, the callow son swinging the Altima door open, only to have him tell me to sit my ass in the back, that the front...
Jen Currin: The Whole Wind

Jen Currin: The Whole Wind

THE WHOLE WIND Someone at a party told me Mercury was in retrograde & then asked how I found my poems. Later he read a list of vulnerabilities & we all held hands. The children always steal spoons & listen to the dogs – I can just barely bandage the past enough for them to...

Josef Kaplan: Two Introductions

INTRODUCING TRISHA LOW I think we can all agree that “emotional poetry” is a disease. Maybe not the poetry. But the incessance of the emotional environment—the appeals to a “felt” response that exists only in its inconceivability, and its consequent legitimacy as a response recognized only insofar as it remains inconceivable—surely this can be described...
Sarah Lang: For Tamara

Sarah Lang: For Tamara

Considering how important generators are, / you’d be surprised at how poorly they’re drawn. / I’m talking magnets and copper wire. Tamara, apparently don’t throw out your textbooks. / I’m running out of advice. / You’re going to be better at this than I. One of the most difficult things to learn is to be...
John Cotter: Comment & Selection of Bill Knott Poems

John Cotter: Comment & Selection of Bill Knott Poems

Bill Knott wrote matchless and indelible poems in a wider variety of styles and modes than most mature poets try on while shopping. Remarkably, though he was loathe to acknowledge it, single voice can be heard ringing through each: righteous and irascible as a prophet, wised-up but awake to new kinds of beauty, adept at...
Anne-Marie Turza: Two Poems

Anne-Marie Turza: Two Poems

DEAR GOD —AND WHEN I SAY GOD, I MEAN THE GOD who made the snail, curled in a perfect house, shitting on its own head; I mean the god of untrue colours, the chartreuse and teal god; I mean god of the conditional tense, in the dark on the sixth day, who said If there...
Mary Ruefle: Trances of the Blast

Mary Ruefle: Trances of the Blast

Various. Precise. Small openings. A journey from one side of the hour to the other. This is not a review. This is also a movement. Like walking into spring while carrying two small dogs under arm and balancing ice cream cones. I thought, this is a cool noise, like ice cracking under the sand. Or...

Rebecca Olander: Return to Great Meadows: Tracking the Living and the Dead

RETURN TO GREAT MEADOWS: TRACKING THE LIVING AND THE DEAD   One goldfinch feather, veined               color of cosmos, coreopsis, primary shade, the definition of yellow.         Taken as a sign it comes along for the walk around the marsh, the mucky edges,           fallen trees downed for want of firm earth.   At the gaping center,...

Rob Fitterman: No, Wait. Yep. Definitely Still Hate Myself

Not to be found on any Griffin Prize shortlists any time soon, and yet I would argue that so far this is the book of the season. An uncomfortable bulls-eye and an instant conceptual writing classic. Sort of like sticking a taco up my nose while attempting to swim in a puddle.

Geoffrey Morrison: Lungfish

LUNGFISH I broke a roller-skate in the shade behind the cemetery: Gargoyle-grotto of a garbage can, a basketball court, The wool-grey metal backboards streaked with rust. Drifting across the three-point line, last year’s leaves. “Friends, this place bears the curse of Saturn.” And in the tobaccospit ditch, the flicker of a salamander Autumn came, and...

Trish Salah: Eulalia for Mother Night

EULALIA FOR MOTHER NIGHT Saint Able bombs to be a Barcelona called Chloe Saint Sometimes Soon to be Chloe accepted. An actor decides if detours, what’s arrived Are art is lunges male managed mind Student soma asks attitude of spirit birds Susana begs becoming clothes consolidated On experience from a far farm Pretoria painted Older...

Matthew Tierney: Radio Call-In No-Show

RADIO CALL-IN NO-SHOW Our Lady of Perpetual Help has new signage that peddles prayer requests ‘by appointment only.’ Only an atheist would bring up the choice of font. The point at which a passing car’s hubcaps seem to stall, then wheel backwards— that’s when you fall half in love. The tunnel light a stainless steel,...
Winner of Lemon Hound's First Poetry Prize

Winner of Lemon Hound’s First Poetry Prize

THEREAFTER by Melanie Siebert Thereafter the northern plains would be cattle country. I had paid off my younger self speaking of the highly contaminated water. The dust was slaloming through the postmodern footnotes. The sandhill cranes etc had refused treatment. A host country manipulated the climate to guarantee good vibes to visiting qualms. Given that...
Lemon Hound Poetry Prize Shortlisted Poems

Lemon Hound Poetry Prize Shortlisted Poems

Our fabulous judge, Rae Armantrout, has selected the five finalists for our first poetry prize. The winner will receive $750. We’ll announce that winner Monday, April 7th. But, before then we will post all five finalists, one a day, because we think each of the finalists deserves to be read. So, let us entertain you....