Friday, November 28, 2014

The Week Shall Inherit The Verse returns


As a result of a health emergency in my family in June 2013, I decided to suspend this blog. That emergency stretched into many months, into the following year. And then I had many months of catch-up and an enormously heavy workload to contend with. I'm thinking that by 2015, I'll be ready to get The Week Shall Inherit The Verse going again. Look for the first new issue the week of January 5.

Stuart Ross

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Greg Evason


Sontag said
was not
to be
I sometimes say
the only one
should be
is our toe

Greg Evason's poems and drawings and collages and paintings and short stories and plays have appeared in many online and offline magazines around the world. He has has had at least ten chapbooks published and recently his book PLOWING DOWN THE CUT was published by Luna Bisonte Prods. He is an autodidact from way back. His work has been collected by the Sackner Archive and archived by the Ohio State University Library. He has written many novels which he has recently started to submit to publishers. He is not a cynic. In fact, he has high hopes for the future of mankind which he sees lying in wait for us as long as we commit fully to travel in and cultivation of space. First, all religious dogma needs to be tossed into the trash bin of history. Greg lives in Toronto.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Michael e. Casteels


a) you avert your eyes, look down at the sidewalk

b) you smile and say hello

c) you run screaming into the night

d) you both run screaming into the night

Michael e. Casteels has self-published over a dozen chapbooks of poetry and artwork. His poetry has also appeared in 529 (Proper Tales Press), Sterling Magazine, The Undergraduate Review, Incongruous Quarterly, In/Words, and That Not Forgotten (Hidden Brook Press). He was nominated for the emerging artist award in the 2012 Premier's Awards for Excellence in the Arts. He lives in Kingston, Ontario where he runs Puddles of Sky Press (

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Carol A. Stephen


after Joe Brainard’s Imaginary Still Lifes

I climb into a taxi
          on the other seat is a man
          with an old grey monkey

I climb into a taxi
          on the other seat is a bird cage
          with a large egg inside

I climb into a taxi
          on the other seat is a dead body
          in a flowery hat

I climb into a taxi
          on the other seat are five cold plums
          I eat them

I climb into a taxi
          on the other seat is William Carlos Williams
          he is looking for some plums

I climb into a taxi
                    There is a picture of me on the back of the seat
                    Old grey monkey clutching an egg

Carol A. Stephen is a Carleton Place poet who typed her first poems in Toronto on a green Olivetti typewriter, complete with whiteouts. Her work sometimes shows up in Ottawa journals, Tree Press chapbooks, and Ontario Poetry Society’s Verse Afire. She took third place in the 2012 Canadian Authors National Capital Writing Contest. In 2012, she also wrote a finalist poem for VERSeFest for the End of the World Contest. Carol co-directs Ottawa’s Tree Reading Series and has written two chapbooks, Above the Hum of Yellow Jackets, 2011, and Architectural Variations, 2012. Carol blogs about stuff on Quillfyre.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Jessica Hiemstra


destroys you, you go to the park
and kick pigeons. You scream
into anything that has a mouth,
you drop dishes
and look at the floor
and see your life in shards
that do not rise
from ashes
or tiles. Imagine
you took a bird apart

to understand it. You would
understand nothing.

Jessica Hiemstra is a visual artist and writer living in Toronto. She's is the winner of two Malahat Review Open Season Awards (2011) and the Room Magazine Annual Poetry Contest (2009). She's published two full-length collections, Apologetic for Joy (Goose Lane Editions, 2011) and Self-Portrait Without a Bicycle (Biblioasis, 2012). Visit her at

Monday, April 29, 2013

David W. McFadden


My eyes are like a truck of pomegranates
or like a pair of rowboats on the pond,
sweeter than grapes or pears on a tree —
how I'd live without them I'd like to know
or better still I wouldn't want to know.
My thumb-like eyes encompass multitudes.
Friends who have passed away I cannot see
but there are others glad to take their place.

On the street my eyes see many eyes
and occasionally a pair will latch onto mine.
My eyes will sometimes see something I saw
yesterday and then again today.
I'll see you tomorrow as we like to say
but I think our eyes don't really go that way.

David W. McFadden is the author of nearly 40 books of poetry, fiction, and non-fiction, most recently Mother Died Last Summer (Mansfield Press, 2013) and What's the Score? (Mansfield Press, 2012), which has been shortlisted for the 2013 Canadian Griffin Poetry Prize, his second such shortlisting. Other books include Why Are You So Sad? Selected Poems of David W. McFadden (Insomniac Press, 2007), Why Are You So Long and Sweet? Collected Long Poems of David W. McFadden (Insomniac Press, 2010), and Be Calm, Honey (Mansfield Press, 2009). David lives in Toronto.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Oded Carmeli


Great grand daddy, you sneaky bastard, you

Who are just just you who are just just who are you

Great grand daddy, who did the world war

In the World War?

Great grand daddy, in the World War

The world warred

The Second World War

Great grand daddy, in the World War

Warred the world the second world

And won

Great grand daddy, you sneaky bastard, you

Who are now justified by now you are justified by who

Great grand daddy, the scales are even

Great grand daddy, even the scales are even?

Great grand daddy, even the scales even

Other scales

Which do not even even

A Great grand daddy

Translated by Maayan Eitan.

Oded Carmeli is an Israeli poet, editor and journalist. He is the author of a novel and two collections of poetry, the most recent of which is The Universe Has No Opposition (2010, Achuzat Bayit Books), and the founder and editor of Hava LeHaba poetry magazine. Oded lives in Tel Aviv.

Maayan Eitan was born in 1986 in Jerusalem, Israel. She is a PhD student in the department of comparative literature at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor.