National Poetry Month

This poem is from Karen Houle’s book During, which was published by Gaspereau Press last spring. Karen discussed the process of writing this book in an earlier blog, posted on February 6, 2009.


Because We Were Prepared
to Make Use of Each Other
Karen Houle

Two by two in a harness of blended capability—
our handmade house with its hundred movable parts:

Parts to organize the light for sleeping,
parts for being all alone and
parts for being alone with you.

Your voice soon bent to fit my keyhole
was the opening in you to the outside world.

One thing safe inside another,
the high talk began

brutalizing one’s mouth by the questions coming out of it.

Feet melt on rungs of deadly daylight.
Skin bangs on its hinges all night.

My breasts still warm dead doves—
picture window, mistaken for open sky.

Copyright © Karen Houle, 2008

The Desk Set

We published Karen Houle's second poetry collection, During, last spring. This week, we asked Karen to show us her desk and what she was working on.

Here are three pictures of the walls of the cell (my little writing room) at Sage Hill Writer's retreat (in the metropolis of Lumsden, Sask)....where I wrote During over 11 frenzied days. If you make a 3-d picture, you will basically see the space in which I composed the poems but also, really, a fairly good rendition of the inside of my head. I hadn't really written poems for about five years and there was a veritable log-jam of material waiting to come out!

















Currently working on a book of philosophy about abortion, responsibility and grief for Lexington Books. It's due the end of June but how the heck am I going to make THAT deadline?? Also, I'm co-editing an anthology with Jim Vernon (York U) on Hegel and Deleuze, called "Hegel and Deleuze: Together Again for the First Time." I'm writing an article on shame and faciality (based on the remarkable photography series "Rememory" by Susan Dobson), a paper which I think I'll present at a conference in Ottawa in May. I am also teaching two classes, two big, demanding second-year classes...so I'm spending a lot of my writing energy doing up lecture notes. On Bentham. And Aldo Leopold. And Kant. (gah) I know I should tell you about the amazing poems that I am ALSO writing, but that veers close to lying. One writerly bit: I realize that I'm actually starting to write a play...in my head of course...and the writer-in-residence here is Daniel McIvor (go Cape Breton!)...so I will maybe mosey on over to his office and get that project up and running.

Speaking of which, I'm late for class!

KH