To A Sad Daughter by Michael Ondaatje
Thinking of a life I used to have, in a world I've never been. To A Sad Daughter Michael Ondaatje All night long the hockey pictures gaze down at you sleeping in your tracksuit. Belligerent goalies are your ideal. Threats of being traded cuts and wounds --all this pleases
The Time Around Scars by Michael Ondaatje
This is the space where I should say something. But I only have a photograph of a pavement, and a cigarette. The Time Around Scars Michael Ondaatje A girl whom I've not spoken to or shared coffee with for several years writes of an old
The Cinnamon Peeler by Michael Ondaatje
I always have a nose for things. Mind you, I do not make a habit out of butting into other people's personal lives — I'm not that kind of nosy. Rather, I always smell anything and everything. I think I