During the hiatus, a man in a black suit appeared in the Geist Gallery in Toronto and identified himself as a builder of ornithopters, or perhaps he said he was a promoter of ornithopters (this was during the hiatus, when nothing was clear; in any event his field was ornithoptery). I couldn’t remember what an ornithopter was but I could see one in my mind: the question was, what did an ornithopter do? The ornithopter man was accompanied by a well-dressed woman who never stopped smiling.
After last call at three a.m. the sunon the horizon like a giant lodestarwould guide us over uneven boardwalks and dirt roadstoward the George Black Ferry, acrossthe mud-fed Yukon River to where our hidden worldof tents lay inside a maze of birch,where branches knocked and clacked in the windlike the restless bones of ghosts,where someone always screamed blue murder backat the landlocked sled dogs as they criedand howled at the lingering seasonand stunning lack of darknessinside the night...
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 ANDREW UNGER, ADÈLE BARCLAY, KATHERINE J BARRETT, and WILLIAM BESSAI-SAUL; Fiction by SHERI DOYLE; Feature essays from ERIKA THORKELSON and KASIA VAN SCHAIK; Poetry by OWEN TORREY and MORGAN LEATHEM VENTURA; and much more!
SIGNUP TO OUR NEWSLETTER
SIGN-UP TO OUR NEWSLETTER
-WEBB.jpg)
.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)