Issue 1.2 | Confluence
This online issue encompasses all the reasons that Senka, Katrina, and I started flo. Literary Magazine, as a way of celebrating all those that are deeply connected to our city and the confluence of our lived experiences. The Ottawa-Gatineau region is marked by its bodies of water, natural and artificial, that all connect and flow through one another, just as we all share this space that we call home, while every one of us holds a unique relationship to this city. This issue features poetry about our city along with the winning poem from our recent tote bag contest (and some honourable mentions!). It is my hope that flo. online issue 1.2 | Confluence offers you a glimpse into our shared connections with and within Ottawa, and encourages you to reflect on your own personal relationship to our city.
Another Tree Grows at Rideau
Laura Weli
HATH THEE NO SHAME?
Yes.
Yes, I do.
I just want to nurture it –
open to air, open to forgiveness,
have it grow in a caring, fruitful and loving environment
so that it can sprout strong, heavy roots, weaved into rocks and stones –
embedded in auburn leaves hanging on another twiggy tree branch on another tree at Rideau where it
will have
a community,
a shield,
and be protected
and cocooned
by passersby and onlookers carrying their own little seedlings as they go about their business at
Rideau.
Laura Weli is a transportation engineering student here in Ottawa. She finished her bachelors degree in civil engineering spring 2022, and continued her studies by starting a masters of applied science in civil engineering with a concentration in transportation engineering. During her time in Ottawa, she has had many opportunities to explore the city. Being a transportation enthusiast, she has always enjoyed learning about the history of cities and urbanism; understanding the ways cities and settlements move, grow and create vibrant homes for the hearts of many.
(photo courtesy of Jennifer Cox)
OUR TOTE BAG CONTEST’S WINNING POEM
This summer we set out to make an issue of flo. unlike any other. In June, we held a contest seeking Ottawa related poetry that we could print on tote bags. Our tote bag contest yielded so many incredible poems about our city and we are so excited to get to announce our winner in this online issue! The Tote Poems | Issue 01 features Nathan Erb’s Valley of the Lips, which resonated with all of us and our own connections to the Ottawa-Gatineau region.
Nathan Erb’s Valley of the Lips alongside two issues of flo.’s latest issue Reverie!
(photo courtesy of Jen Jakob)
Valley of the Lips
Nathan Erb
How much can a valley hold
and a person carry?
With just words, we mesh
together a place, call it a city,
this threadwork of speech. Us,
like whispering pollen, stranded
between tulip beds and asphalt.
Here, we hold sturdy,
our vocal cords woven into canvas.
We ask, what use are words
if not for rooting around
in the things we carry
but can’t hold?
A flo. tote bag put to good use (carrying copies of flo. Literary Magazine issue 04 Reverie, of course!)
HONOURABLE MENTIONS
Picking just one poem to share with you all was such a difficult task that we thought we’d share some honourable mentions of contest submissions that we loved!
Locks on a footbridge over the Ottawa Canal.
(photo courtesy of Jennifer Cox)
Witches on Elgin
Jennifer Cox
Today, channeling Tolkien and Stoker
we play magic in the afternoon
drinking and writing
smothering our fears
in the immensity of the day
We twist and giggle in the falling leaves
and newly naked trees
claiming we’re never too old
to scrape our knees climbing the bark
We find inspiration and raise hell at the ballet
cast spells on the silent
wet eyes watching Romeo
as Juliet doesn’t hesitate in
stabbing herself through the heart
We howl at the moon in mourning
of her courage on Elgin Street
while other middle aged women shuffle
out of the theatre and give us the sidewalk
Tonight, I am the stranger on the O-train
wool cape and gold sequenced skirt
reading a book of witches’ poetry
tonight, I’m the one they don’t sit next to,
I’m my own spell, cast into night
Revival
Susanne Fletcher
Dog flushes spring, scents
hiss from soggy grass
like birthday sparklers.
On the bridge I halt,
leash taut, dog’s rear
legs spread wide, radar nose
wet and overwhelmed.
I plant sneakers on
the bridge and catch
Sawmill Creek’s shimmer, marvel
at its bouncing shimmy. Sun
collides with my head,
her warm teeth comb my hair,
tune my scalp like a
radio dial. The dog nuzzles
last fall’s blackened
leaves dead with potential.
In Sawmill Field yesterday’s
melt reveals a pale nest
of December dog poo
revived as big as the idea
of degrees above zero.
METROPOLESS
an homage to Ottawa
Rob Thomas
windless city city without light
city that sleeps the lesser smoke
city that does not work that requires angels
city without flowers and sunshine
town lacking tinsel town with no steel
city without nickel without copper
without roses city without lilies and palms
and plains and wheat
city without saints
unreal city
city of intermittent spring city without David
without peace without drive
notown
virtuous city city without magic
and cream or flour
city of four flags city with a missing twin
the big hardship
city without gold and dreaming spires
and brotherly love city requiring bridges
town that fun remembers fondly