Perfect Strangeness.

by Doretta Lau

The fiction included in Issue 30: Summer 2015 was selected by Doretta Lau, our Guest Summer Fiction Editor for 2015. Below, she talks about the expe...

Here’s Our Mixtape.

by Katherena Vermette

The poetry included in Issue 30: Summer 2015 was selected by Katherena Vermette, our Guest Summer Poetry Editor for 2015. Below, she talks about the...


Mani Pedi.

by Souvankham Thammavongsa

The bright industrial lights hung in neat rows on the ceiling. And afterwards the sadness settled in Raymond, in his body. It went all over. Heavy. ...

The Scar.

by Asha Jeffers

  When I was a child, I would lie across my mother’s bed while she got dressed after a shower. I loved everything about this ritual—lying there...

Clearly, I’m in Trouble.

by Jamila-Khanom Allidina

About a month after I first start wearing the fat suit I meet Matt at one of the bars near the university. Matt is angular, only his angles are not ...


by Samantha Leese

In a dark and fusty corner of the reptile shop, there was a tortoise that Adrian loved. “Good morning, Betty,” he would say to the tortoise each day...


by Jacob Geiger

Every time I see the Astor Place cube sculpture, I make a mental note to search online and see if it’s some sort of conceptual or political statemen...

If Only a Flicker.

by Holly Flauto Salmon

It had been cold last night, a superlative squall of cold. My friend sent a call out this morning for some artist types: “I have a dead flicker I fo...


by Francine Cunningham

  Crimson Smithe is creeped out by the mannequin torsos that hang near the ceiling of the store, floating above the racks and counters. Their t...


we are just.

by Rosanna Deerchild

we are just: Indian woman faded black & white whispers of a long gone past like horses and fur trading we are just: your disney porn girl who we...

Two Poems.

by Scott Nolan

Elvis and me   I like the kind of rain that upsets people postpones the softball game stops traffic and the radio I am the man Salvation Army s...

Two Poems.

by Janet Marie Rogers

The Whole Truth I was but ten And remembered then How we marched With Morgentaler along College Street in a very different Toronto As a young woman ...

Animal Passion.

by Tanis MacDonald

  Moths drink the tears of sleeping birds,* and black bears run from dragonflies. Mule deer read Jane Austen when they can’t get George Eliot, ...

Two Poems.

by Lee Maracle

The Call: Breath is wind, Voice is wind Wind is power             sto:lo teaching My Response: We enter the world wailing, fighting for breath first...

After Lamb Vindaloo.

by Scott Wordsman

  Such moments can be indebted to self- reflection: a birth, a loss, this potential new love, cross-legged, feet from this bathroom, deaf to my...

Defying Gravity.

by Michelle Good

  So many rivers we wandered without helmsman or guide. Some so shallow the stones barely below the surface, glacier shrapnel once jagged, now ...

Mr. Red.

by Hilda Mann

Mr. Red, the cab driver, was a very bad man. It was nice of him to let her live. He was weird, too weird, liked to indulge in strange things Like go...

Standing, still.

by Monique Woroniak

  It’s April 2014, after a long winter when I think of residential schools, leaning into a kitchen sink washing a day’s worth of spoons. A year...




Beautiful Risks: An Introduction to “À la prochaine fois”: 1995 and Literature in Post-Referendum Quebec, Summer 2015 Svpplement.

by Jason Freure

René Lévesque finished his concession speech for the 1980 sovereignty referendum with a phrase that would ingrain itself in Quebec’s psyche for the next 35 years: “À la prochaine fois.” Since that first defeat, sovereignty has never left the political discourse of Quebec. Lévesque wouldn’t live to see the next time, nor to see his party stray from its underlying socialist policies, but that phrase continues to influence the political scene today. Parti Québécois leader Pierre Karl Péladeau won his position with a hard line on sovereignty, billed by Le Devoir and CTV as separation’s “last chance.” In the popular imagination, two important things happened on October 30th, 1995: 49.4 percent of Quebecers voted Yes to the referendum question and 50.6 percent voted No, and Premier Jacques Parizeau started crunching the numbers between nous and les autres, thus defining his image among non-péquistes with “l’argent …