Billy is fast asleep in his dog bed in the living room. My mouth is feeling weird but I still smoke. Sigh. I am writing on the red couch. The mood is good although I am a bit concerned and worried about how very many packs of smokes I smoke daily. Oral cancer is true martyrdom from what i read and very common for people who smoke like me. Plus, you often don't die from it, you just get completely fucked up physically from the surgeries to remove it (in your face).

 I know Denis Vanier, my favourite quebec poet,  died from oral cancer but I could not find anything on that,no  descriptions nor how long he had it for or anything, save that he died in hospital after having visited a librarian friend and begging him to take him away from the hospital (he had 'escaped'). The cops brought him back to the hospital and he died that night. Thats is the only thing i read about his death. I have Maitresse-cherokee by his second wife, Josee Yvon here, first edition. I could not finish it but I have to add that I read very little nowadays. I used to read a lot but have not read a lot for 10 years. I also have somewhere a press release edition of Les fees ont soif. I also have not read it. I am a loser when it comes to reading recently. My 10 years of intense pot smoking have made me an idiot on that front.

So Billy is all curled up on his bed, cute as a pumpkin muffin. The wind is strong tonight. I feel like writing for a while which I may very well do. I go to bed later this week end. I still don't drink.

This was written around 2010-2012 and the collage was made with a photo I took in High Park, Toronto, in 2012. It was written for my sister, mysterious name Claudine for the purpose of that shop. Not her real name. I dedicated L'Oie qui siffle en verra to Claudine, even though it is just her middle name (or baptism name)  which she never uses. I went so wild on this blog in 2020 that I did not use anybody's real name in my family for the blog, since I was nuts and I knew it.