My new book is out! Be brave and happy!

Now that Self-Defence for the Brave and Happy is out, you can check out my events page for details on my upcoming appearances in Toronto, Ottawa, Kitchener-Waterloo and other cities.

Come back to this page for news and visit my books page for the latest reviews. Happy reading!

Posters for my upcoming book launch on September 10

We'll get this poster right one of these tries!

More to come?

You're invited to my book launch on September 10

 

Join me as I launch my sixth collection of poetry SELF-DEFENCE FOR THE BRAVE AND HAPPY and welcome my special musical guests THE DATABATS!

 

 

 

RIP Koko. My poem "Ape" was written in her honour.

Today we woke up to the sad news that Koko the western lowland gorilla has died just shy of her 47th birthday on the 4th of July. I've been fascinated by her remarkable life since I was small child reading about her in the pages of National Geographic, and I have followed the on-going experiment of animal language use conducted by Penny Patterson at the Gorilla Foundation with great interest.

My poem "Ape" from my 2010 collection The Reinvention of the Human Hand was written in honour of Koko and her achievements, and also for Michael, another remarkable language-using gorilla who had been her companion but who died when he was only 26. Today, to mark her passing, I'm posting the poem here.

APE

for Koko, and for Michael

in memoriam

1

Ape born in Frisco, born out of darkness of mountain 

forests, out of rain that doesn’t fall, but hovers. 

Come, Ape, out of bushmeat trade and war zone, out of 

coffee and tea for human need. 

Come out of blood diamond, come out of strip mine, out 

of pit viper and mosquito, out of tick. 

Ape who lives in Woodside, Ape who rides in Honda, 

who wears red sweater. Come speak.

Ape of legend, come. Out of colonial science, out of Bible, 

come monster of Skull Island, of Original Sin, of 

City of Gold, come take this kitten to your breast 

and speak of love unconditional. 

What did the old men make of you, Ape, when they drew 

their Victorian cartoon, when they posed for their 

daguerreotype holding your scalp? Teeth of the 

meat-eater? Murderer’s hands? Bush devil? 

Gargoyle? Proof?

Come Morning Star, come Adversary, daughter of the East. 

Come beast-thing, come witch, child of the Nephilim, 

giant in the Earth, come demonstrate the egg-shell 

gentleness of your strength. 

And what did the young men make of you when they came 

with their machete genocide, radiating smoke? 

They made you Lamb of the wilderness, one animal’s breath 

at the centre of the green and white day. Hush-a-bye, 

hidden, quiet with your kind on the unclimbed slopes. 

There, in shadow, in the hovering rain, the family almost stirs.

2

Ape! Ape! We thought you were gone! We thought you 

were gone into the book. We thought the damp 

black covers of untreated hide had closed around 

you forever. 

Gone into the Book of Sasquatch. There were reports. 

There were sightings. 

Gone into the Book of Yeti. There were such bloodcurdling 

cries in the highlands, footprints that vanished under 

the snow falling in the pass. It left us cold. 

Ape, we thought you were gone. It was aboard the hulking 

wooden ships of Empire that you left us. 

It was locked inside the gilded wagons of the circus, as tin 

calliopes whistled notes of sweltering air, that at last 

you left us.

We thought you were gone into shopping cart, into camera, 

into cake. We thought you were gone, Ape, into a 

discount mall display window for twenty-seven years 

without soil or mountain, without soil or credit. 

Ape, we feared, as the valleys emptied, as the land broke into 

atolls and everything was distant, as the beaches 

crumbled and the sea was left unreachable, Ape, 

we feared the worst.

Stories make things closer. Come now, Ape, and speak. 

There are stories of a boy who, by great misfortune, 

fell into your powerful care, who lived with you 

among the bamboo and lianas, and who learned, 

as well, to be Ape. 

Tell us, Ape. Are the stories true? Was he everything that 

might make us proud? 

Or did he shame us with his nakedness? 

3

Ape of helicopter crash and gunboat, Kalashnikov foundling 

in the burning brush, snatched by crate, smuggled by 

truck, why be silent now? 

Come now, Ape, out of black bazaar, out of bamboo cage on 

meat-stained table, smelling of gasoline in the insect-

heavy air, come hoot the low, open vowel of your 

name. 

Ape of camera crew and cutting room, flickering between 

solid shafts of tree trunk and weightless shafts of 

light, come speak like this: flickering, tree, light, 

and you will conjure the world of Ape. 

We are listening. Across this forest floor darkened by limbs 

crowded with birds, through the colliding sound waves 

of their love songs and alarms, come speak. 

Tell us, Ape, in your own words, why did the young men 

come to the forest?

     Squash meat gorilla. Mouth tooth. 

And how did it sound to Ape? 

     Cry, sharp-noise loud!

And how did they look to Ape? 

     Bad think-trouble look-face.

And what has become of Ape’s mother? 

     Cut/neck, lip (girl) hole.

Come now, Ape, out of landmine and hand grenade, out of 

the smouldering charcoal fires of Virunga. Downriver 

upon the deep arteries of the Congo, upon aluminum 

wings across the sea, come speak to us.

Speak to us, Ape, in research-centre sanctuaries with hoseable 

linoleum floors. Come speak to us from government-

funded genome projects, on glass slides of blood, from 

the ancient common darkness inside cells, come speak 

to us, please, in the language of Ape. 

Come quick. Come now. The family is gathering. 

My copy of the October 1978 issue of National Geographic featuring a cover story about Koko. 

Praise from Mark Mothersbaugh for Self-Defence for the Brave and Happy

"Self-Defence for the Brave and Happy has arrived, and not a moment too soon! Nothing less than a manual for navigating the current landscape of booby-traps and hidden unravelling. An invaluable aid in this time of troubled spirits, muddled truths, and convoluted thinking. Paul Vermeersch has created a template to help us all traverse the highways and bi-ways of an increasingly confused and confusing world full of misinformationalism and bald-faced lies."

— สมัครคาสิโนออนไลน์Mark Mothersbaugh

COMING THIS SEPTEMBER 



สมัครคาสิโนออนไลน์CLICK HERE TO PRE-ORDER

Self-Defence for the Brave and Happy, my sixth book of poems, will be published this fall by ECW Press

Coming Fall 2018

from ECW Press

สมัครคาสิโนออนไลน์Four poems in The /Temz/ Review

I'm really honoured to have four new poems in the second issue of The /Temz/ Review from London, Ontario. As a Western alum, it's good see so much literary energy and renewal in the Forest City!

Click here to read the poems.

Books I've been editing for spring 2018

I happy to share the cover designs for the novels and poetry collections I've been editing for Wolsak and Wynn's spring 2018 season. Click on the images to learn more about the books.

Ten-Headed Alien
by David James Brock
Poetry

Listen Before Transmit
by Dani Couture
Poetry

In Search of the Perfect Singing Flamingo
by Claire Tacon
Novel

Adjacentland
by Rabindranath Maharaj
Novel

Designs for Ten-Headed Alien and Adjacentland by สมัครคาสิโนออนไลน์Ingrid Paulson.
Design for Listen Before Transmit by Natalie Olsen of Kisscut Design.
Design In Search of the Perfect Singing Flamingo by Michel Vrana.