Poems and their backstories: a few from A Possible Trust

Because my new book, A Possible Trust, is a book of poems selected from 6 previous books, (with a few new ones) there’s a lot of backstory. So I’m pulling out the archives here with short histories of poems.

“The Job of an Apple” is from my book Fear of the Ride published in 1996. A few years earlier, I was in my cousin’s kitchen eating an apple. I bit into it and it was mushy. “Ew,” I said. And then added, “The job of an apple is to be hard.” And that became the first line of the poem. I’ve used it many times in workshops. It has spawned the job a pen, the job of a teacher, the job of an ally, and probably many jobs.

The poem was also published in a grade 11 textbook. For years, I’d get emails from students asking me what it was about. I’d write back and say “it’s about everything.” Which wasn’t that helpful. Best response: two students made this video.

“Don’t Be Superficial Cause We’ll Soon Find Out.”

In 2018, I was invited by the Brave Festival of Risk and Failure at Harbourfront Centre to write poems for people on the spot over a period of two days. About 40 folks came and I asked what they needed a poem for and then I wrote it. Then they took it and walked away. 

At the start of my shift on the second day, a man was waiting there, eager. No, excited. He was so into it, he made me nervous. Just so you know, i think I'm an open person. But his level of open scared me. Reminded me of when I went to an improvised dance thing called "The Move" at the Dovercourt House in Toronto and said to my friend "I'm not comfortable being this comfortable." 

So the man, who's name is David sat down and said, "I'm ready. My soul is right here." He held out his hands. I said "I see!" I was still kind of edging backward in my skin. But i realized he was waiting for me to touch him, to meet him. So I touched his fingers with the tips of my fingers and I swear something cleared. His eyes were very blue. I got calm. I asked what he needed a poem for and his sentences, which were a bit fragmented, suddenly made sense. I did not write a "poem" as I sometimes do. I just wrote as fast as i could some of the things he said. Then i read it to him and asked him "what should we call it?" He said "Don't Be Superficial, Cause We'll Soon Find Out." We had a blast together. Or I should say he was already having a blast and I let myself join him.

The story gets better. Seems he went on his way and met someone nearby and said to him. "I have this poem here, can you help me read it?" And who he happened to find was Micha Edwards who in that very moment, as open as David George Thomas Shipley was, made this video. This video in that moment on that day.