Go to the Globe and Mail homepage

Jump to main navigationJump to main content

AdChoices
The position of Poet Laureate, which in Toronto is currently held by Anne Michaels, is like a blank page. The laureate has three years to fill it. (Fernando Morales/The Globe and Mail)
The position of Poet Laureate, which in Toronto is currently held by Anne Michaels, is like a blank page. The laureate has three years to fill it. (Fernando Morales/The Globe and Mail)

Toronto Poet Laureate Anne Michaels celebrates the city’s literary diversity Add to ...

The position of Poet Laureate, which in Toronto is currently held by Anne Michaels, is like a blank page. The laureate has three years to fill it.

In the case of Michaels – who inherited the position from George Elliott Clarke, currently Canada’s Parliamentary Poet Laureate, in December, 2015 – that meant organizing a series of events in situ held in places, such as the Don Valley that have inspired the city’s artists over the years, and working with non-English-language writing and literary organizations to celebrate what she calls the “incredible language diversity in the city.”

“That’s also a literary diversity,” says Michaels, the award-winning author of five collections of poetry, as well as the novels Fugitive Pieces and The Winter Vault. “We need to start thinking of it in those terms, because that richness is an incredible gift to the city.”

April is National Poetry Month and, to mark the occasion, Michaels was invited to read at Toronto City Council earlier this week. The poem she read, To Write, is reprinted ahead.

“It seemed like the right thing to read in City Council, because it speaks of what the power of words can be,” she says. “I was able to stand in City Council and say, ‘Poetry is insurrection. It’s insubordination. It’s defiance.’ That’s what poetry is. Poetry asserts. It’s defiance against oppression, dispossession, indifference, amnesia of every sort, and has always been that, whether it’s scrawled on a wall or written on a battlefield or whispered into the ear of a political prisoner or memorized to survive state censorship.”

“It was very good to be reading it in that setting, because we need this assertion,” she adds. “There’s so much noise around us. Language is used with such promiscuity. We’re experiencing a massive dose of opinion, and opinion is replacing thought. So we need this kind of speech more than ever.”

Michaels will be hosting an evening of poetry on April 3 at 7 p.m. at the Toronto Reference Library, along with poets Phoebe Wang and Roo Borson.

Excerpted from All We Saw by Anne Michaels. Copyright (c) 2017 Anne Michaels. Published by McClelland & Stewart, a division of Penguin Random House Canada Limited. Reproduced by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved

To Write

because the dead can read
 

because she thought everyone

came home to find their family taken
 

because the one closest to her cannot speak
 

because he drew love into him from each body he entered
 

because they are keeping her from him
 

because the last time they met he misunderstood her

absolutely
 

because a finger can hold a place in a book
 

because a book rests in a lap
 

because words are secrets passed one to another on a train

the same train where letters were crammed between slats

to be found by strangers
 

because they recognize each other over huge distances
 

because a true word, everywhere, is samizdat
 

because everything political is personal and not

the other way around
 

because forgiveness is not about the past but the future

and needs another word
 

because the true witness of your soul

is sometimes one you’ve scorned
 

because it is possible to be married to someone who died

many years before we were born
 

because he painted the intimate objects of their life together

not from observation but from memory; though surrounded

by the teacups, the flowers, the garden, he retreated

to his small room to paint, each object transformed

by love
 

because words are mirrors that set fire to paper
 

because every day she risked her life for him
 

because he remembered this too late
 

because he was mistaken
 

because he was certain
 

because certainty and doubt consume each other like dogs

in a parable
 

because of a Sunday morning in London
 

because of a cemetery in Wales
 

because of a mountain and a river
 

because he imagined himself an orphan
 

because an infant cannot carry herself
 

because of drawings on fax paper
 

because she sends her SMS with broken thumbs

and an empty battery
 

because to be heard we do not need a pencil and we do

not even need a tongue and we do not even need a body

because the one who holds the pen, even if it’s too dark to

see the page and even if the ink is his own blood, is free
 

because an action can never be erased by a word
 

because we set down what we cannot bear to remember
 

because we cannot take back what we sang
 

because the dead can read

Report Typo/Error

Follow on Twitter: @itsmarkmedley

Also on The Globe and Mail

Be inspired by this passionate reading by Canada's poet laureate (The Globe and Mail)

Next story

loading

Trending

loading

Most popular videos »

More from The Globe and Mail

Most popular