18: ROOTS

rob mclennan: credo

not everything comes when its supposed to,
a feeling of open-endedness

three days threat of rain, just
sick of it when it comes

he holds his head & squints, william hurt
in until the end of the world

the metal windmill rusts the field,
& hasnt turned an age

the memory of tire swing

when hannah was three fingers old,
now three plus a day

strewn presents follow suit, yellow wrapping
in the yard

do not believe anything i tell you
abt narration

we drive a drink past mulligans,
& it rains it rains it rains

rob mclennan is a prolific poet, editor, publisher, etc. his 9th trade collection of poetry is "what's left" (Talonbooks, 2004), & another, "stone, book one" is forthcoming this fall with Palimpsest Press. the editor of, among others, "Groundswell: best of above/ground press, 1993-2003 (Broken Jaw Press, 2003), he currently lives in Ottawa, Canada's glorious capital. He often says things on his clever blog.