It was at about this moment that I hit him in the face, which is something I’ve never done before. I don’t know what perfect form the punch took in my mind, but by the time the impulse had pushed its way through me, my hand had bent inward like an old person’s claw, or a doll’s hand—curved around but without a bottle to clutch.
I can’t blame youfor claiming this place as your ownpersonal theme park. For you,there is only summer when every curvein the road brings a new photograph—red cliffs climbing out of the sea, field upon fieldof white blossoms, a wharf where boatschristened The Maggie-Mae and Aurora Dawndepart for the fishing grounds.
Geist is the Canadian magazine of ideas and culture—every issue brings together a sumptuous mix of fact + fiction, photography and comix, poetry, essays and reviews, and more of the weird and wonderful from the world of words.
Geist distills the Canadian imagination into a tactile, stackable, admireable, finishable and entirely shareable magazine.
Notes & Dispatches from HELEN HUMPHREYS, GINGER NGO, COURTNEY BUDER, and JENNIFER GOSSOO; New fiction by FINNIAN BURNETT; Feature essay from SORAYA ROBERTS; Comic by CM WAIN; Poetry by MISHA SOLOMON and GUY ELSTON; and much more!
SIGNUP TO OUR NEWSLETTER
SIGN-UP TO OUR NEWSLETTER
-WEBB.jpg)
_WEBBB.jpg)
.png)
.png)
