across the tiny farm’s yard
if you could call it a farm
i mean i do
well, not to myself
but to others, in a puff up
that stuffs the shade
where the chickens hide
from that heat made and thickened
with the smell of shit …
Poem, in its entirety, is available in the printed version of the current issue.
Bio:
Russell Carisse (they/him) is currently living on unceded Wolastoqiyik/ Mi’kmaw territory in New Brunswick. Here they have resettled from Tkaronto to an off-grid trailer in the woods, with their family of people and animals, to grow food and practise other forms of underconsumption