I Am Bored Of Writing You A Hundred Poems


Here’s one unrelated to you

I am insulting you

In the only way

A storyteller can

I am not going to let you be

A sympathetic character

In my story

You are not going to be a person

You are going to a person-


An antagonist

No, not an antagonist

I am turning you into

An anecdote

In memory, you will not have taken up thought

Even if in the present you take up

More than

I would like to admit

I Am Going To Write You A Hundred Poems (10-20)


it is not that

I thought

I was too good for you


You were too good for me


We were too good for each other



You wanted effort

I wanted lessness

That doesn’t mean

I loved you less(ness)




But I did.




And it wasn’t your fault.




I am apologetic not in conclusion

But in execution

I caused confusion

With interior collusion

And for that I am sorry

But do not worry

You times I

Was an interesting fusion

You * i


Can’t wait until robots take over the world

It will start with Apple making the iYou

Literally just a robotic replica that—


This is about you

But I did say

These poems were for me



Talking with people

Has a funny way of depersonalizing me

Because I no longer become solitary

Instead I become one half of a conversation

The same goes for talking with a group of people

If I have no voice in a group of ten

Then I disappear

Maybe that is why

I prefer the individual

And the sound of my own voice



(In case it wasn’t clear

How the above poem related:

I would rather be full me

Than half of someone else)



((In case it wasn’t clear

How the above poem related:

I do hate myself (most of the time

Though some days (like today) I

Am better than others and some

Days (like tomorrow) I will be only

Okay and some days (like the day

After that) I will not be.)

But I enjoy dwelling in dislike)

Not sharing it)



Introducing: Apple’s New and Improved iYou!

It’s literally just a relationship! In robot form!

Spend time with your mate! Love her through

Thick and thin! Be afraid of dying alone!

Settle for a good relationship!

Don’t go for the great one!

Order now!



You wanted me to put more effort in

I wanted the effort you put in

To put less effort in

I lied.

That means I loved you less.

I Am Going To Write You A Hundred Poems


As it was my failure

To adequately explain

Why it was that we were no longer


I will instead attempt

To explain to you



Why we were




These poems are for you.

I know you have said that my explanations were for my own piece of mind.

They are not.

I have taken a piece of you

and mistreated it.

Here is a piece of me;

do with it what you will.



I do not know.

If you want the/the/sis statement there it is.

If you want to dodge the question, read on.


Let me be clear when I define a relationship.

A relationship is not a sum of two parts.

Rather, it is the product of them.

Sometimes, one part is negative.

This turns the whole equation negative.

I think I was the negative one.


Let me be clear when I say

That my choice was not a criticism of you


My choice was a criticism of you times me

Just because I like 2

And 3

Does not mean


Floats my boat


Marriage is a mutual delusion

Yet it is the best we have.

I had chosen long ago

Not to marry unless

Something otherworldly hit me

And stuck with me

As I would always prefer my own company

To the company of another.

Then again,

I am not even twenty.



Is a good age

To lose it.



My first girlfriend

Attends my first parts


My first real kiss


My first fake kiss


I do not believe in relationships


I do not believe in relationships








I said

I hope

You hated


I still do.

Not for me

But for you


I lied

These poems

were for me



Hello, (I fear,
I can’t relate to you
I wish that I could
Let me poison my blood.
That’s better I see
A little less clearly
Pass me some whisky
So we can speak truthfully.
There are thoughts in my head
That are holding me back)
Maybe give me more wine
(Keep my mind
On track.)
Oh yes! Haha, yes, I like that too–
Sorry, one minute, let me get some more booze
Uh huh. Uh HUH. UH UH. No way!
Am I shluring my wordsh?
Thatsh how you know I’m okay,
(I’m okay, I’m okay, this is okay)
This is (normal, this is) fine, I’m (fine,)


i am sick and sad and tired of this drip-feed fame
i am sick and sad and tired and sad and sick and tired and sad and tired and sick and sad and tired and sad and sick and sad and tired and okay and tired and sleeping and tired and sick and better and trying and smiling and healthy and better and happy and smiling and laughing and for the moment okay



I want to feel something.


I’m sick of these lonely bus rides

Eyes searching for someone with discomfort on their face

Instead of that same old glassy stare.


I want to feel something.


I’m tired of speaking to the same people

About the same things, forgetting

That the world is burning in favour

Of focusing on the falling snow.


I want to feel something


Anything, anything at all

That could bring me some amount of being happy again


I want to

I want to

I want, too

I want to feel something

Some poems


They tell me

“Write something with heart”

They don’t get my irony, my comedy

The way my mouth twitches at the end of a punchline


They don’t get my contradictions,

The way I say one thing and mean another

They don’t get that my heart contradicts itself in the same way


They tell me write something with heart

They overlook the part

Of my heart

Laced with contradictions


They tell me that they don’t get my comedy

Well I don’t get my comedy either, I don’t get most humor that’s why I’m trying to give it to you

They tell me

“Write something with heart

Something people *get* you know?

Stop saying one thing

And meaning another”

I ask them how am I supposed to write something

Broad enough to appeal to people

That still comes from the heart

You don’t get my comedy?

I don’t get my comedy either

That’s why

I’m trying

To give it to you

They tell me write something with heart

I tell them look harder






Give Up

The world has told me to give up

Too many times to count

And it’s true

That I am not a fighter

Or very emotionally powerful

Or good at being with people

Or doing anything, really

Actually, you know what,

I am kind of tired

Yeah forget it

Price of planned building was to be paid by future students

Price of planned building was to be paid by future students

“Yes” and “No” posters for and against CUSA’s proposed student union building. The “Yes” poster to the left has been ripped down by an unknown party not supported by the “No” campaign.

Student representatives of clubs and communities across campus gathered in Robertson Hall on Monday for their academic government’s second meeting this year. Discussion ranged from plans to deliver free food to students studying in the library to the announcement that the physics society had won a bid to host a Canada-wide undergraduate physics conference.

While many issues were discussed, none brought up more debate than plans to begin construction on a new building that would charge students at Carleton University an additional $40 of tuition per semester during its construction. The new building would begin construction in four years, and its price would be in addition to a three per cent annual tuition increase.

The spokesperson for the planned “Student Union Building” was David Andrews, who spoke at length on the reasons to support its construction during the meeting. Andrews is the vice-president of finance for the university’s student association, which is pushing to gain public support for the building.

Polling for the referendum took place on Dec. 6 and 7. This booth was set up outside of Rooster’s Coffeehouse.

“This new building will help us attract more students and help make us more competitive with other universities,” says Andrews, promising 24-hour study space and dedicated office space for clubs. “Carleton is unique not just in its growing student numbers, but also in the sense that we don’t have Student Union Building, unlike many other universities.”

Andrews assured the crowd that the bill would not just be coming out of the undergrad pockets in four years. “In order to remain competitive, the university agreed to front the cost of the first $20 million,” he says, and that the other half of the building will be paid for by the student association. The caveat is that the university will use an eighth of the Student Union Building to set up food stands.

“One of the big misconceptions I hear so far is people asking ‘if we vote yes, are we going to start paying for it tomorrow?’ The answer is no.”

“But we want to make it non-profit,” he says. “That allows us to provide the food and drink at a much lower cost to students.” Andrews’ speech comes about one week before the Student Union Building referendum, which will decide whether or not plans will continue on the construction of the building.

“One of the big misconceptions I hear so far is people asking ‘if we vote yes, are we going to start paying for it tomorrow?’ The answer is no,” says Andrews. “No student will have to pay for any part of this building whatsoever until it’s constructed and complete until 2020.”

Andrews concluded his speech with a plea to think about the future of Carleton University. “Whenever you’re a part of an organization, a team, or a club,” says Andrews, “your goal should be to leave something better than that from which you came.”

Salah Al-Basha is CUSA’s volunteer of the month and delivered this interview while advocating for the “Yes” campaign.

Charissa Feres is the psychology student representative and vice-president of a campus organization that fights against mental health issues. Feres was the first to bring up her concerns with Andrews’ speech, claiming that the $40 price tag would increase each year.

Charissa Feres is the vice president of student issues at SAMH. At Monday’s meeting, she raised several talking points about the student union building.

“I’m sorry,” replies Andrews, “that’s simply incorrect. It will always be $40 per semester. The increase is simply adjusted for inflation.”

The agenda continued, but not before Feres raised some questions for the academic student government running the meeting. A video had been shared on their Facebook page that Feres claimed supported the Student Union Building.

The “Yes” campaign went under the name “Shaping Our Skyline.” Campaigning took place primarily in the University Centre.

Chloe Miller, newly elected president of the student academic government, expressed her and her organization’s neutrality on the subject. “We only shared the video to inform the public about the issue,” says Miller, reasserting that the student academic government is neither for nor against its construction. “We only want people to be informed.”

Feres is unconvinced. As the same organization that created the “informative” video is also in charge of promoting the Student Union Building, Feres believes there is a conflict of interest. Neutral parties should not be sharing partisan posts, she says.

When asked if he knows whether or not the majority of Carleton University students are for or against the Student Union Building, Andrews says no. “Unfortunately, I don’t have an abacus. There has not been a poll. There has been a lot of volume on both ends, but I think that’s a good thing. Engagement is always important whether people or advocating for or against it.”

“People shouldn’t be dazzled by the promise study space and dance rooms.”

The issue is “pretty wordy and confusing,” says communications representative Alyson Duffy. “But we could always use more study space—a lot of my groups get double-booked. I would want someone four years ago to have invested in me today.”

“I don’t personally like that argument,” says Feres in response to that prevailing theme of Andrews’ speech. According to Feres, we are not necessarily “investing” in Carleton’s future. “Maybe students in four years aren’t going to care about the extra space on campus,” she says.

“What’s important,” says Feres, “is that students are informed and grasp the full implications of what is right now being offered. People shouldn’t be dazzled by the promise of study space and dance rooms.”

What everyone who spoke on Student Union Building could agree on is that above all else, students need to be informed.

The student union building referendum would result in a resounding “No” to CUSA’s proposed idea. Sophie Hayes was in charge of the “No” campaign and gave this interview after the results had been posted.


I manage a residential pool near an elementary school. It only opens during the summer and it’s been a big hit with families for what I’m told has been a couple decades now. It pays alright and it’s easy work—hire a lifeguard, someone to replace the chlorine, and someone to fish out the crying kids that inevitably shit in the pool.

The pool itself is incredibly old, though, and I think that’s where most of the problems came from. The wooden fence around the pool was short and there were rocks all around it, meaning kids could hop it pretty easily. On busy days when they thought nobody was watching, young teens would hop over the wooden fence to get around paying the entrance fee. Little shits. I normally catch them and kick them out, but a few inevitably slip through the cracks.

And the security system. Blech. We lock up the entrance with a padlock, but that’s obviously not enough to dissuade people from climbing over the pool’s walls. That’s where our security system comes in. We have a camera that’s hidden away on the roof of the concession stand that picks up pretty much everything in grainy, 1980s VCR quality. And as manager, it’s my prestigious job to look through the tape every night. Worst part of the job, easily. I wish they’d upgrade the system but the city hasn’t touched the pool in thirty years so I doubt they’d start now.

I normally just sit down, fast-forward through the night tape and find nothing of note. There’s a fair share of people who sneak in at night to have a midnight swim. I don’t blame them—I’d do the same if I lived in the area. I do blame the older teenagers from a nearby high school who sneak in to have sex in the pool. Animals. I just hope the chlorine kills their chlamydia before the kids jump in the next morning and leave it at that.

Except one day—about a week before it happened—I saw the silhouette of a guy crouching on the fence. With the angle and grainy quality of the recording I couldn’t really see what he was doing there. He was just crouching, hunched over, his knees touching his chest, staring at the pool. I slowed the tape down, waiting for him to jump in, but he never did. He just stared at the pool all night. And then he was gone so quick that I didn’t even see him leave.

The next night, the same thing. Same guy, staring at the same part of the, not so much as moving a muscle. The way he was crouching, holding that unnatural position for so long, made me uncomfortable, but I showed the tape to my employees and they both found it funny. We figured as long as he wasn’t dumping any chemicals into the pool or setting up any video cameras to take pedo pics of the kids, there wasn’t much of a problem. I told them I’d keep an eye on it anyways, maybe use this as an excuse to get the city to put some damn spikes on the wall.

Some days the guy was there. Other days he wasn’t. The day before it happened, the guy had brought a friend. Both of them climbed onto the fence and then just crouched there. I couldn’t see their faces at all in the darkness, only their crouching silhouettes. Watching it made me feel sick, and I fast-forwarded through the entire thing. That afternoon I emailed the city, requesting some added security and through some ancient archaic methods converted the VCR video to something I could send them.

When I got into work the next morning, a police officer was standing outside the pool’s concession stand. She had a pencil in one hand, a notepad in the other, and was scrawling down something illegible. I tried to move past her, not seeing what she’d want with a residential pool, but she stopped me.

“You run this place?” she asked as I was unlocking the door. “Sure,” I said. I opened the padlock and turned towards the police officer, anxiety welling up inside of me. “We’re on the lookout for this girl,” said the police officer, showing me a picture of a blond-haired kid with a purple bow in her hair. “Sixth grade. Goes to the school around here. Did she ever come to your pool?”

I gave the picture a good, hard look. “No, I don’t think so,” I said, and then with some forced sympathy: “She’s missing?”

“Yeah,” said the officer, biting her lip. “We just started looking. Give us a call if you see anything.”

“Sure thing,” I said, and stepped inside my pool. And then I started to clean the pool. Grabbed my net. Got out some leaves, some dirt. But something was sticking out of the gunk. It was a purple bow.

I dropped my net into the water. My heart sank and then raced. I shook my head, and steadied my breathing. I was nervous from the talk with the police officer. That’s all.

The tapes.

I popped the tape in and saw an empty pool. Normal night, like any other. And then, in a split second, there was a dozen silhouettes all crouching on the walls of the pool, watching as a small figure thrashed back and forth in the deep end. It was a kid. She’d sink suddenly, forcefully, and then barely make it up in time for a short gasp of air before being pulled back down as if someone was beneath her. She kicked and screamed, her blond hair clinging to her face as I saw something clench around her ankles and pull her back down.

I couldn’t move my hand to turn the tape off. The silhouettes of the men who had stayed so perfectly still before now swayed back and forth slowly. And then, in unison, their heads began to turn so that I could see their faces, their noses hooked at odd angles, their mouths curved into smiles, their eyes bright and wide.

I jolted back, fell over on my chair. The girl didn’t come up for air again. Her bow floated to the top of the pool. The silhouettes turned towards where the girl once struggled and leaped into the pool after her. Blood started to bubble up to the top of the pool. Then a hand reached towards the camera and the tape ended.

I cried and vomited for about an hour before phoning the police. I told them what I’m telling you, though this version was a lot more neat and tidy. I wanted to snap the tape in half after I’d watched it but I knew I would need it to prove my sanity. Nobody else has watched the tape yet. I don’t know if people will see what I saw. I’m scared that they won’t. I’m scared of hooked noses and smiling faces. In my dreams they wait on the roof of my house for me. My house fills with water. I try to swim up but something pulls me back down.