the poetry that matters

Shannon Maguire

Shannon Maguire is a Northern Ontario grrrl who has long made Toronto home. She studied playwrighting at the National Theatre School of Canada, holds a degree in English and Drama from York University (Glendon College) and is working on her MFA in Creative Writing through the University of Guelph. She also co-cultivates AvantGarden, a new reading series which foregrounds innovative text and sound based performance by women. Her poetry and work for theatre has appeared in various places including: Nightwood Theatre's 4x4 Off Road Festival and Write-From-The-Hip, Buddies In Bad Times Theatre, Gulch: An Assemblage of Poetry and Prose (Tightrope, 2009) and is forthcoming online in EOAGH: A Journal Of The Arts. She won the FuitLupz Award (Supporting Our Youth) for emerging queer playwright in 1999.

6 sketches of wulf

It is very difficult not to be known at all…
-Gilles Deleuze 

Portrait of Wulf in the journal of p

one minute everything is ordinary
white dress cut low covered in a grey shawl
a cloth bag full of candles and vegetables

speak is sliced the soft is rolling
i watch your spoons as they hang above me
u will not let me touch you

u will not let me find a verb
plunge the oily garlic of a work inside me
we laugh and laugh the soft is at my best
u slide your hooves in and strut deeper

leeks are diced  the soup expanding
spoon in hand the gesture grated
fur over jawbone is a language 


Portrait of Wulf in journal of a snowshoe


S o FlllllluuuuuuuuUfffffoooooooollllllll  N  



no one arrives home

Wulf walks west
hits warehouse rooftops full speed
pools pink in quick-vanish

hip-hop crafts a dance floor  all drivers double as DJs at every intersection it’s battle
of the bands

across the street and down several buildings
workers arrive in white vans late at night
no one ever sees them leaving

films are shot over and over
emptied into the night like ammunition

bitten land missing an eyelash
wing buds caught in frozen teeth




Wulf walks west

                              b                                  o
                             r  iiiiii ice                o    o  o
                             b  i  t              ice              oat
mouth                 g          One
    p   ea  k               h                         bone
         s  ee  k                        oo
 s  e             n  o         t  s
ppaaaaaaa sssssssss
s s s ss ss aaaaaaaaaaaaage

         ah         E                     ah     h                  hhhh
               ah                          ah                            N hhhh
                          b                       a   r   n
                 ran                                 a c l e
                         ch                                ache





when a wolf meets Wulf, reaching for the rye

staring up, shorted out
a transport of horses
we argue out of the husk 
the leanest sounds

our kind noises empty as heat
tongue that calls the troops
vocatives of space, of silence

we are now distance
an ocean around the island
nearest stars

balls spill
body shots slip
between the planks
when you play
your well earned
detonations register
if you spontaneously assent
if amid banana leaves
a child should be born
with wolf-tail
then recall her mouth
bloodied and laughing



              W                         H
              R                          R
D                                                        D

wyrdelicnes wyrdgesceapum wyrhata wyrdwrītere wyrp

d                           o                          o                r

              p                           art                        ch           ment

wurd                   wylfffff ate                        wynlust

              w            y            r            d            e



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