Ethan Vilu :: Four poems

Bow Valley Vignettes

Porcelain perfume and

plastic parking garage

toys on the main street

-

An unsurprised standoff

between glass doors and

unshoveled deck, too much

snow, weather watching

Orioles, no, Ross’ Geese,

shimmering Lake Minnewanka

-

Ornate tea leaves I meant

to send you so long ago, but

you’re here now, it’s all such

a grateful and grandiose thing -

the tap water is cold as I

breathe in and think

of the future.

Another Dream About Parksville

In three years now I’ve
moved to scenic blue Parksville
for a matchless summer aura
and cornucopia of grains
spilling out into the ocean –

reaping and sowing
giving, and taking
all things into the trench

I have a diary of luminous,
such luminous, sad, dull, nothing
over six packs of Stanley Park
such an earnest conversation
on such horrible things -

“Damn, I get it –“
you see why I did what I did
as I slick back another small auburn
and all of this so amazing

glissando / boreal / orchid
in three years I have learned
to sound out these qualities
and play against a prism in the dark

On Impulse

Sell my Bobby McFerrin tickets,

I’m fucking off to Nova Scotia.

I’m gonna get really good at

painting lighthouses by the sea -

the torrential waves, the bare-faced

rock, the stoic, resolute towers.

I’m gonna sell my work in some

tourist trap like Peggy’s Cove, or

the Halifax waterfront - a small,

but sufficient living for my efforts.

It’ll be serene, it’ll be grand.

I’ll be happy in the ocean air.

And maybe one day I’ll be back.

We’ll see.

Untitled (After Tommy Flanagan)

 The potted plant does putative dances -

“Is that what that is” – I wonder as it

moves waltz-like from the back deck

to the dining table and back again, as

if a laconic and sublime game of racquets.

So many words, and so little time, but really

so much time lately, and so few words –

“I’m old fashioned.” You say as you sip

on the mulch, bearing back at me again

an imposing glide like so much spherical felt.

Ethan Vilu is a writer, editor and fledgling bookseller from Calgary, Canada. Their poetry longsheet A Decision Re: Zurich was published by The Blasted Tree in March 2020. Passionate about western vistas and material culture, they currently do editing work with NōD Magazine and filling Station.