Hailing from the ice cold fjord of La Baie, Canada, I wandered creatively for years in this barren climate between boring lab jobs, depressive friends and bouts of inspiration. After a lot of shivering, a slew of poems as inconsistent as the fall weather and soul searching, I finally emerged from hibernation aware of who I am: sensitive but cynical, practical but imaginative, ready to aim for the jugular like a Northern carnivore. My texts can range from crass to hopeful depending on my moody self, but they always are out to get the reader. They contain a lot of references and imagery from my favorite music, books and anime, and the life I know as well.
I will salute you, Procrastination, but later,
For sloth is with me.
Blessed are your distractions, "hiding" my malaise,
I do not get my life together, in digital denial.
...
Every morning is a lancet
But I never greet the rising sun with new skin.
Its rays stab through the calluses;
Waking up does not cicatrize well.
...