Fine Circle (or the poem I unfortunately cannot share with anyone): Heather Carr

It’s called ‘ideation’, that feeling you get in oncoming traffic, a casual swerve into the median, stepping off the innocent curb, as if it were the edge of a subway platform, walking down the sidewalk, as if each footfall will carry you off the brink, taking pictures from a balcony, and wondering what would happen … Continue reading Fine Circle (or the poem I unfortunately cannot share with anyone): Heather Carr

He replied “That’s my style man”: Heather Carr

I used to be like Alice in Wonderland, Blazing knee-high neon-striped socks, Collection of striking skirts and scarves, Roaming streets and campus of Ottawa, Heeding the call of ‘Who are you?’, Migraines much like Carroll had, Waking up October to a foreign world, Wondering if I too was down the rabbit hole, Carrying a pink-paged … Continue reading He replied “That’s my style man”: Heather Carr