Join thousands of book lovers
Sign up to our newsletter and receive discounts and inspiration for your next reading experience.
By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy.You can, at any time, unsubscribe from our newsletters.
Telephone wires, dark as a line in a schoolboy's notebook against the dawn; paint flakes from houses drifting down like dust; the hulking shadow of a desk that emerges, stock-still as a cow, in the moment of waking. Join poet Robert Melanon for a quiet celebration of his city, its inhabitants, and the language that gives it life.From "e;Eden"e;:You go forth drunk onthe multitudes, drunkon everything, whilethe lampposts sprinklenodding streets with stars.Robert Melanon, former poetry columnist for Le Devoir is a recipient of the Governor General's Award, the Prix Victor-Barbeau, and the Prix Alain-Grandbois.
"e;I shall settle for the paradise of what I see this rectangle of twelve lines a window."e;
Sign up to our newsletter and receive discounts and inspiration for your next reading experience.
By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy.