Poem of the Month
No Justice No Peace

By Blossom Thom

Published on September 1, 2017

Another bloody body
another child dying while

doing the unthinkable
eating food, going home,
eyes meeting impatient suspicion.

A foal’s folly
but great herds require young
colts. Hashtag memorials meld misery and knowing

into action. They were,
just kids—playing, sleeping, walking—who
knew the koan: What’s my

life worth?
Lived everyday in its shadow.
Maintained, sustained, then attained

Neither peace nor relief.
One plus one plus one more
Prayer doesn’t help anyone

Quests for forgiveness quell guilt,
request loved ones rush through grieving while
remaining silent and tired.

So tired of untruth.
So tired of vigilantes.
So tired of wrongful deaths.

So tired of xenophobes.
So tired of your acceptance.
So tired 

More Poetry

The Most

We’ve given up the long rise to the look-out, and your
favourite, fox-frequented path ...

Versailles bus stop

I loved my colleagues and their playful putdowns. I loved the way they paid attention to clothes — as if they never considered how their tunics and smart pantsuits looked like upholstery.


Tonight it will rain on the green dunes of limestone.
Wine preserved until now in a dead man’s mouth
will awaken the realm of footbridges, displaced in a bell.
A human tongue will clang courage inside a helmet.