Pull his finger. Braid his chest hair. Top of the odd-job totem pole. King of the all-you-can-eat.

"he’s rowing with bed rails on sheets / sail-taut where the sea should be."

First prize winner of the 3rd Annual Geist Erasure Poetry Contest.

Understocked soy blocks are a sign of hope.

We had laughed at first. At the thought. Like it was a joke. Imagine, the ocean basting us.

Longlisted for the 3rd Annual Geist Erasure Poetry Contest.

Peter Culley's wet June days in Nanaimo: damp carpet, dead walnut trees, the roar of the highway, Rockford and the last bees on Planet Earth.

"Tired of living, your sail shredded by your ruined nails"

Honourable mention in the 1st Annual Geist Erasure Poetry Contest.

Third prize winner of the 2nd Annual Geist Erasure Poetry Contest.

"I’d take the calm before the storm if it meant having any calm whatsofuckingever."

Longlisted for the 2nd Annual Geist Erasure Poetry Contest.

Two poems from "Children of Air India" by Renee Sarojini Saklikar.

Zachariah Wells defines Canada as a land of "vegans and seal-clubbers, loggers and tree-huggers" in this sardonic poem.

"Life in Canada is just bear attack after bear attack. It always happens, as incalculable as the number of times Irving Layton used the word 'loins.'"

Jeramy Dodds rewrites the Canadian national anthem and points out that the only difference between hockey and heroin is that with hockey you shoot before you score.

The first poem in a series dedicated to Maria Chekhov, sister of the famed writer and keeper of the archive.

Longlisted for the 3rd Annual Geist Erasure Poetry Contest.

"Canada has no history books, they are being written as we speak by navvies and temporary foreign workers, by strippers and hitchhikers."

There was a fire in your former home, it was on the news. You brought me here, once, in my youth when nothing impressed me.

Gregory Betts examines boycott culture in Canada through the lens of social media and produces a found poem of collected internet comments that records the world threatening to negate itself.

Second prize winner of the 2nd Annual Geist Erasure Poetry Contest.

Claire Caldwell's advice on dealing with bears: "speak quietly but with conviction. Never let them smell your Ativan."

City of remaining maples, snuffed neon, pensioners ruminating over donuts.