I was bumming
around Halifax town,
it was dusk, or there about.

Getting cold and
in need of shelter,
I entered an old abandon apartment
that was toasted to in the worst of ways.
All to make room for progress.

There scrawled on
what would have been
the living room wall...

The words written in blood,
the funniest thing,
it read...

'Dyslexic's of the World.. Untie'

I knew I was home for the night,
no big deal, if the bleeder came back
at least he had a sense of humour.

An upcoming fashion show, and I don’t mean to be unkind here, is lacking in both. It’s just the way it is. These models are beautifully ordinary people, your neighbours, and their designs are self-crafted, each suiting the model’s personal interpretation of high fashion. It’s the social event of the season. Everyone in the “know” will be there.

Eight models and an emcee will take to the Capitol Theatre stage in Oxford Thursday at 7 p.m. for the third annual Foolish Fashion Show. Foolish is the operative word here. It’s an evening of fun, with each model parading across the stage in four outfits during the show. The fashions are indescribable literally. You have to see them to appreciate them.

The show is the annual fundraiser for the Oxford/Pugwash Unit of the Canadian Cancer Society. To date the show has raised about $5,000 for the society’s Lodge That Gives in Halifax.

The show was the idea of the local unit’s Bev Clark.

“At the time there were no people to canvas door-to-door,” she said. “People were getting older or had less time. There were also other fundraising campaigns going on at the time.”

After seeing a foolish fashion show elsewhere, she decided a similar one would work for the local cancer unit. The first show was a sellout and the models of the evening agreed to take to the stage the next year.

Each designer/model is responsible for their haute couture. With the final result left to their wild, some might say perverse, imaginations the creations are a sight to behold.

Unit secretary and past president Bob Hunsley in his best 007 voice introduces himself as “Bob, SpongeBob.”

“Every good fashion show should include good costumes,” he begins. “Here, our unit president Edna McCormick is wearing her all-weather coat. In this coat she is well prepared for sunshine, rain, fog and snow and all the wind that blows (the coat is adorned with representations of each weather condition). Notice her “son” hat (which is a tribute to her son).”

Jane Smith is new to the Foolish Fashion Show runway.

“I came to the show last year and really enjoyed it. It looked like fun,” she said.

First time jitters?

“Doesn’t bother me a bit.”

This show is one in which you can’t do anything wrong. You show off your creation however you deem fit. It’s all fun.

Tom Kay, is making his modelling debut also. And what will Councillor Kay be strutting his stuff in? Not to give too much away but a muscle shirt like you’ve never seen and shorts will be worn.

Nine-year-old Emma McCormick is also a featured model.

It’s a show not to be missed.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2015

.

I survived Cameron and his band of hatchet men

remember when Thatcher took the axe to school milk?

but you ******* voted her in
as smooth as silk
but we see her now as the sows ear she was.

I won't vote for Corbyn
he never went and yet he's already a has been,
never seen that before excepting Jeremy and they named a park after him.

Thorpe.

Once
when I drew a breath in Toxteth
and the carnival was the riot
I got a bit
but that's censored.

Anyway
in Lancaster it's raining although it was cool down in Blackpool with the Duchess and only a slight breeze and a sneeze or two passing by Blackpool zoo.

Goodnight y'all
don't fall asleep
before you've said
your prayers.

Ignorances innate wove curtain of veils
Cut usunder heretofore obscuring
Bodhicittas valedictory wintry gloom torn
Of enlightenments will factioning the
Silenced mammonish city kingdom truced
As the wings of Azrael clinch
Earthly thistles; monolithic raiments
Deposed Hull, Hell and Halifax parcae
The willowing of light unfettering Fenrirs
Durance, howling aconite psalms suspiring
Suffrage relict paving with mewed stars
Redemptions tithed talents bequeathed
Of Heavens sinister prayer burning
Acinta dusts thine ashes threading
The wilful sword of Gods destruction.


ELEETE J MUIR.

A place where people say goodmorn, and hum a happy tune.
Where neighbors say this rain is bad, i hope it gets nice soon.
A place where you can find the streets, and know which bus to take.
Yes every city has it's down's, but people here arent fake.
They may be mean and filled with greed but will always speak their mind.
And even in their shallow life, their heart you can still find.
We make an honest living, and help our dying earth.
We treat eachother with respect cause we know the human worth.
We drink alot I will admit, but thats how Scotia goes.
Will even drink on our death bed, that's somethin' you all know.
We love the sea and we'd agree, that fishing is the ****.
A day upon the pretty rock while fishing is legit.
Im proud to be apart of this amazing ******* place,
and even some Canadians believe we're our own race.
But bottom line I'll call this home until my dying breath,
and even when it comes my time, im glad that here I'll rest.

Sounding like some wild soundtrack
to a Spaghetti Western starring
none other than The Clintster,
it were rolling in good vibes
with the peeps taking selfies
with the band for a backdrop.

Two horns poundin' out
a happening grove,
with a bass player all of
four foot nothin'.
with a cool round sound.

It was cookin' alright,
hours after midnight,
a Halifax sextet hinting
of Tom Waits and the The Bob man.

I yawned, I looked around,
all those sweet tarts in their skin tights.
I yawned again, shook my head
as the band was covering Ray Charles...
I yawned again and again
and realized I am too old to party hardy.

But still... 'I can hack it'.. the last thing I said
as I headed out the door, homeward bound
In a January breeze that had a hint of Spring.

end © 2014

In every interaction
a bit of sadness
knowing how far away
our transactions are made
Blush
eyeliner
and lipstick
fade
Sunsets on a city scape
I'd run there barefoot
if you'd only
meet me there halfway

Relax, relax, Halifax
It's only just a crush
But I keep your playlist on repeat
as days turn into dust
In the next life
we'll be neighbors
and meet when we're sixteen
I'll knock on your door
to borrow sugar
if you know what I mean
But for now
I die for your name upon my screen
In this existence
even at a distance
it feels so good to be seen

We've got bagpipes and buskers,
cannons, and clip.
Lots of marijuana, and tons of tall ships.
Plenty of seafood, and point pleasent park.
It looks pretty lame, until the streets become dark.
Weve got the Citadel hill, and pavilion kids.
lockups, and lockdown. All things that we did.
Plenty of days, where we fell on our *** ,
smokin dope in the glade, and layin on grass.
With colt 45, and 151.
Alexander keiths, and malibou ***.
Weve all jumped a fence, and swam chocolate lake.
No other province could handle the risks that we take.
Cause were crazy,obviously, were maritimers.
Dartmouth, and spryfeild.. Hell, our schools are the worst.
But its halifax, Nova scotia.
We do it our way.
Live like the east coast,
Cause i do everyday.

I have friends who went,

to Bethlehem, to Paris, to Spain.
Left for London, Beachy Head.
Those friends came back,
back to Halifax, Portland, Bangor–

My friends go.
They go
to the bar for a pint.
They go
to the South for the summer.
They go
to plant trees in Alberta–

The friends who go
are the friends who went.

But I have friends
who are
gone.

Friends
who are
gone
cannot go
to the bar,
to the South,
or to Alberta.

Some friends have left–
through some door,
in the night, in the day,
in a car, on a bed,
on a stretcher, in the street–

and yes, they are
gone.

Where will I go when I am
gone?
Will I be with my friends?
Perpetually traveling
to the South, to Alberta,
to the bar for a pint?

No. I will not go.

I cannot go, once I am gone. When I go, I will be
gone.

I could go anytime,
night or day,
In a car, on a bed,
a stretcher, or street–

Yes, I could go. And when I go, when I leave–
I will be
gone.

So,
Friends who have
gone
where I cannot go,
they must know–

that we all will go, we all leave–
soon, yes, soon. Now,
in the pause
between
moments,
in the  quiet space
of a last

breath–

we

all are

gone.