Alden Nowlan Poems

I come in from a walk
With you
And they ask me
If it is raining.
...

Down from the purple mist of trees on the mountain,
lurching through forests of white spruce and cedar,
stumbling through tamarack swamps,
came the bull moose
...

A mysterious naked man has been reported
on Cranston Avenue. The police are performing
the usual ceremonies with coloured lights and sirens.
Almost everyone is outdoors and strangers are conversing
...

Not every wino is a Holy Man.
Oh, but some of them are.
I love those who've learned
to sit comfortably
...

I used to broadcast at night
alone in a radio station
but I was never good at it
...

Angels inhabit love songs. But they’re sprites
not seraphim. The angel that up-ended
Jacob had sturdy calves, moist hairy armpits,
...

Why don't the records go blank
the instant the singer dies?
Oh, I know there are explanations
but they don't convince me
...