Soliloquies ConcordiaMissing the Little ThingsBreathe just breathe. I think I’ve said that to my self every single day this week, and yet I still forget to when I write my papers. I...
Soliloquies ConcordiaFrom Far and WideHere, the forests are fluent in fire even though their first language is air The lands have been taught that there is nothing wrong with...
Soliloquies ConcordiaThe WalkBy the time this is published, my friend would have started walking up Mount Royal. A walk she organized among her closest friends to...
Soliloquies ConcordiaThe Language of PainPain is personal. Talk about cramps, migraines, or stubbing your toe to anyone else, and there is no way to describe the experience...
Soliloquies ConcordiaThe television is killing my motherThe television is killing my mother. I don’t mean in the way that she’s being brainwashed or it’s sucking her soul from her body. The...
Soliloquies ConcordiaBelvedere RoadLately I’ve been walking. Walking to the places I know well. Turning left. Then right. Then left again. On some days, I turn at corners,...
Soliloquies ConcordiaPoetry and Politics with Liana CusmanoAn Italian family Sunday lunch is the setting of one of the first poems Montreal poet, Liana Cusmano (they/them), read on the virtual...
Soliloquies ConcordiaHow to ExerciseWriting for exercise, you lose two if you wish. One should yield confidence building results. She can. Your ideal reflects your...
Soliloquies ConcordiaThe Balcony PeopleEmerging from my cold dingy room I put on a floral mask made by a local designer. I hadn’t worn it in about 2 months. I stepped out into...
Soliloquies ConcordiaWhen Fifty Boys Fall Auden knew, when he wrote about what happened the day Icarus fell. That when a boy flies too close to the sun, and falls into the sea the...