Like a good journalist, a diner poet actively seeks an engaging story. But instead of creating cynical narratives filled with grim statistics from leading experts, a diner poet gleans the thoughts of regular folk - the kind who frequent the cafes, truck stops, and doughnut shops of the nation. Whatever is on their minds becomes the canvas for diner poetry. Relationships, faith, politics, dreams, history, and even the Constitution are fair game. God often shows up in Diner Poetry, by reaching down to stir the pot of our corporate slavery or our narrow provincialism. Filled with political…mehr
Like a good journalist, a diner poet actively seeks an engaging story. But instead of creating cynical narratives filled with grim statistics from leading experts, a diner poet gleans the thoughts of regular folk - the kind who frequent the cafes, truck stops, and doughnut shops of the nation. Whatever is on their minds becomes the canvas for diner poetry. Relationships, faith, politics, dreams, history, and even the Constitution are fair game. God often shows up in Diner Poetry, by reaching down to stir the pot of our corporate slavery or our narrow provincialism. Filled with political insinuation and historic references, the rhythms of Diner Poetry often skips and dances - breathes - and then gallops.
My love of a good story comes from my family. My grandmother hooked me on tales of her uncle - who at age 17, ventured alone from the farm in South Dakota to the gold fields of the Yukon in hopes of striking it rich. I was mesmerized when my mother talked nostalgically of her adventures as a cook aboard the Uranium Trader, a riverboat plying the mighty Athabasca. My first attempt at storytelling was in the second grade. I wrote a dramatic short story about Fort Whoop-Up - located in Indian Battle Park near Lethbridge, Alberta. In the Mowat-esque tradition, this narrative was rife with heart-stopping adventure - and some gratuitous mouse eating. In junior high school, I was a brooding poet and actor. Fortunately for the world, a girlfriend's father mistakenly burnt my poetry collection in a tragic kindling accident. I kept busy in high school by playing rugby, but found enough time to write and produce my own plays. Unfortunately, people watched my plays - righteously indignant stuff about the injustices in the world. I somehow managed to win a few awards though. University was an age of discovery for me. My poetry improved - thankfully - and I won some more awards. I wrote countless articles for the University of Lethbridge's The Meliorist - a weekly newspaper that attracted many talented folk. It was here I created many lifelong friendships. I have since written everything from short magazine articles to in-depth research-based historical nonfiction. I'm currently working on a social history of Drumheller, Alberta titled Of Mines and Men - the Unmentionable History of Drumheller Valley. The universe has taught me countless things. One is that the learning never stops. Another is that positive attitude attracts positive results. When I'm not busy writing or exploring, I can be found restoring a vintage bicycle, or working under one of my Volkswagen Buses.
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